<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425</id><updated>2012-02-04T05:35:23.149-08:00</updated><category term='moments'/><category term='addiction'/><category term='processing'/><category term='grace'/><category term='wholeness'/><category term='death'/><category term='the journey'/><category term='n'/><category term='new'/><category term='Holy Spirit'/><category term='dawnthebutcher'/><category term='freedom'/><category term='Kingcom'/><category term='artist'/><category term='Red'/><category term='truth'/><category term='quivering daughters'/><category term='humility'/><category term='worship'/><category term='discipleship'/><category term='friend'/><category term='suffering'/><category term='dance'/><category term='o'/><category term='lust'/><category term='growing up'/><category term='salvation'/><category term='embracing hope for ethiopia'/><category term='healing'/><category term='restoration'/><category term='peace'/><category term='God'/><category term='i'/><category term='world vision'/><category term='growth'/><category term='five for 50'/><category term='grief'/><category term='gratitude'/><category term='faith'/><category term='donovan'/><category term='special fx'/><category term='sanctification'/><category term='fierce'/><category term='rest'/><category term='bitterness'/><category term='flying'/><category term='trials'/><category term='ethiopia'/><category term='The Avatar'/><category term='strength'/><category term='belonging'/><category term='pain'/><category term='b'/><category term='love'/><category term='brokenness'/><category term='serving'/><category term='Biblical Christianity'/><category term='poor'/><category term='pride'/><category term='walking with Jesus'/><category term='hording'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='cocoon'/><category term='AIDS'/><category term='hope'/><category term='five minute friday'/><category term='creativity'/><category term='gifts'/><category term='depth'/><category term='neighbor'/><category term='missions'/><category term='starbucks'/><category term='cycling'/><category term='mom'/><category term='apprentices'/><category term='called'/><category term='wind'/><category term='prayer'/><category term='Drawn from Water'/><category term='recovery'/><category term='children'/><category term='nursing'/><category term='speed'/><category term='gypsy mama'/><category term='struggle'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='ego'/><category term='book'/><category term='life'/><category term='passion'/><category term='obedience'/><category term='running'/><category term='redemption'/><category term='food'/><category term='lent'/><category term='Christianity'/><category term='willowing'/><category term='alcoholism'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>Searching for a Place to Belong</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>79</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-828423097349632426</id><published>2012-02-03T05:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T05:46:27.174-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='restoration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strength'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moments'/><title type='text'>Five Minute Friday: Real</title><content type='html'>I am linking this post to Gypsy Mama's five minute Fridays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;round here we write for five minutes flat on Fridays. &lt;p&gt;We write because we want to, not because we have to. We write for fun, for joy, for discovery.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;We just write without worrying if it’s just write or not.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Won’t you join us?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ol&gt;&lt;img class="alignleft" title="5 minute friday (1)" src="http://thegypsymama.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/5-minute-friday-1.jpg" alt="" height="180" width="179" /&gt;1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.&lt;br /&gt;2. Link back here and invite others to join in.&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Please visit the person who linked up before you &amp;amp; encourage them.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/ol&gt; &lt;p&gt;OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Start:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Real.  I am beginning to realize some real things about my mother.  We have not always been close.  There were, in fact, times in my life that I just wanted to get as far away from her as I could.  I wanted to nothing to do with her.  I just wanted to start over in a place where she couldn't get to me.  She was not the perfect mother.  As a matter of fact she made a lot of mistakes and allowed some really horrible things to happen to us.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am so glad, though, that God didn't allow me to run away and start over without her.  He has healed so dramatically and restored so beautifully.  We have forgiven and loved and seen the most unbelievable and miraculous healing and change in our relationship.  My mother lives with me.  She has for about 6 years now.  It has not always been easy.  Sometimes it has been downright hard.  But it has been beautiful and healing and great.  I am so grateful that she lives with us now.  I love her with all of my heart.  I am so grateful that she lives right down the hall from me.  I am so grateful that her grandchildren get to see her every day.  I am so grateful for God's amazing and healing grace.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I would not trade the time I have had her in my house for anything.  It is a treasure to me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am realizing now, though, that she is frail and fragile.  The woman that I have sometimes been angry at and sometimes found exhausting and frustratingly childlike.  The woman that I started to raise and parent from an early age.  She has been strength in my life.  She is where the intense strength that those who know me say I posses comes from.  She has been a rock in my life.  She has carried so much and she is a survivor.  She has survived more than I have time to tell.  Some of what she has survived is unspeakable.  I am a survivor because she is a survivor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She is getting old, though.  As she recovers from a simple knee surgery that became much more complex, I realize that the strength is fading.  She is not as strong as she once was.  She will not always be here.  She is fragile and frail.  She will lean on me soon and I will be her strength.  I will help carry the one who once carried me.  As I realized yesterday she was becoming less strong, I selfishly asked God to keep her strong.  "I am not ready for her strength to fade, Lord.  I still want her to be the strong one.  Please don't let her get weaker, yet.  I never realized how much I took her strength for granted." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She is real.  She is not superman.  She is human and human strength fades.  As the flower fades....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I cheated.  It was more than 5 minutes.  Please forgive me.  I was not done and I needed to say it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-828423097349632426?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/828423097349632426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/02/five-minute-friday-real.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/828423097349632426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/828423097349632426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/02/five-minute-friday-real.html' title='Five Minute Friday: Real'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-4351441044761079916</id><published>2012-01-26T06:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T10:59:09.346-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='willowing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brokenness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='artist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wholeness'/><title type='text'>The Scent of water</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufGKbS_yyPs/TyGieWvFkyI/AAAAAAAAAGs/vE50flLkR_E/s1600/405468_3089671201539_1256733377_3352199_31810113_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufGKbS_yyPs/TyGieWvFkyI/AAAAAAAAAGs/vE50flLkR_E/s320/405468_3089671201539_1256733377_3352199_31810113_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702017245610611490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bwI0IIcktwg/TyGib1sHtxI/AAAAAAAAAGg/bYQj79oBojA/s1600/398062_3089691922057_70892876_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bwI0IIcktwg/TyGib1sHtxI/AAAAAAAAAGg/bYQj79oBojA/s320/398062_3089691922057_70892876_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702017202380060434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_e-hFb6zEQ/TyGiZauTD5I/AAAAAAAAAGU/24bXhlaY1H8/s1600/397546_3089679081736_1256733377_3352214_399262216_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h_e-hFb6zEQ/TyGiZauTD5I/AAAAAAAAAGU/24bXhlaY1H8/s320/397546_3089679081736_1256733377_3352214_399262216_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702017160781696914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJRAMR3jMb0/TyGiV_VLEsI/AAAAAAAAAGI/umSJEvdX584/s1600/393789_3089663721352_1256733377_3352197_1374088249_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJRAMR3jMb0/TyGiV_VLEsI/AAAAAAAAAGI/umSJEvdX584/s320/393789_3089663721352_1256733377_3352197_1374088249_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702017101888950978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was meditating on Ephesians 2:10 a couple of mornings ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pondering that fact that we are God's workmanship and what that means.  Just as an artist creates a piece of art and it is an expression of His heart, so God created each of us as an expression of His heart.  He created us as His handiwork exactly how he intended.  He wove us together in the womb and placed us in the exact family and environment that would bring about exactly what He intends for each of us. He has sent, sends, and is sending that which we need when we need it to lead us to where He wants us to go.  The path is just as important as the destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He created me as an artist from the beginning.  He also allowed the intense creativity and artistic nature in me to be crushed.  So destroyed was the artist in me that I would never have dreamed saying I was creative 10 years ago, much less call myself an artist.  It was so crushed anyone looking would have called it dead, but slowly over the last 5 to 7 years God has been busy resurrecting that which seemed impossibly desolate and demolished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had the desire to draw for my whole life.  I don't mean wow it would be pretty cool to be able to draw.  I mean a passionate burning desire to be able to visually express what I see in my head.  It has been such a unfulfilled, yet desperate desire in my heart.  I have struggled and struggled trying to learn to draw.  Then when the time was right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a class online.  Actually, several from a web site called &lt;a href="http://www.willowing.org/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;willowing&lt;/span&gt;.org. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am actually learning how to draw.  I have drawn faces.  I have NEVER been able to draw faces.  They might not look like a particular person, yet, but I can draw a face that looks like a face.  I have had enough success that I am thinking about a drawing class in school.  This has been such a huge desire and I really thought it was impossible.  If you have an inkling toward wanting to paint and draw, but find it a bit challenging go check out Tam at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Willowing&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been such a journey.  There has been so much struggle and frustration and so many tears.  There has been doubt and spiritual war over this art thing.  I have such harsh critics and an old mean operating system that runs in the background of my mind all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every part of this journey has been so important.  It was important for the artist to be crushed.  He created the artist and He allowed the destruction of the artist.  When the time was right He resurrected the artist.  Every part of this journey has been intentional, hand written by my creator; it was important for what He has for me to do that the artist be crushed seemingly beyond repair.  As He resurrects it, and there is no doubt He is resurrecting her, the beauty of the struggle brings Him so much more glory than if I had just been born an artist and walked in it my whole life.    The end is far greater than the beginning.  What He has resurrected out of the ashes of devastation is so much more beautiful and so much grander.  I have no doubt that He has great plans for the resurrected artist.  I just need to continue to seek Him and grow.  I need to be diligent to learn and allow myself to explore.  I have to learn not focus on the end result of the art, but delight and rejoice in the creative process.  He is setting me freer and freer every day and giving me more and more confidence to create art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has sent me so many resources and so much inspiration.  He is allowing me to take so many different expressions of creativity and combine them into even more creative types of art.  I am drawing, painting, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;collaging&lt;/span&gt;, Art &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Journaling&lt;/span&gt;, quilting, doing fabric and texture art.  There are so many beautiful expression that He has brought into my life to combine and work with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an artist.  I am no longer afraid to call myself an artist.   I am no longer to intimidated to make art.  The enemy does not like it and the critic in my head tries to hold me back, but I have gotten free enough to silence the critic most of the time.  I recognize the voice is not the voice of my Father and turn to my Father to hear what He has to say.  His affirming voice is becoming louder than the critic and the enemy.  Art is such a huge part of my life now and I am well aware of the tremendous healing power it has.  I have a sneaking suspicion the reason He allowed so much brokenness and struggle was so I could take that struggle, make something beautiful out of it and use it as rocket fuel to power the work He wants me to do bringing healing and art to other broken people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read a beautiful book on suffering called The Scent of Water and the author pointed out a scripture I have never seen before, but it speaks so loudly to me especially in the area of art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Job 14:7-9  "For there is hope for a tree, if it is cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its tender shoots will not cease.  Though its root may grow old in the earth, and its stump may die in the ground, yet at the scent of water it will bud and bring forth branches like a plant."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is such a beautiful picture of what I just wrote about.  Though the tree was cut down and seemed dead beyond resurrection, at the scent of His water, the shoot began to grow.  That is how it has been over the last 7 years.  Sometimes the art development seriously seemed to be standing still.  I doubted the resurrection of the artist was possible at times.  I told myself this whole thing was ridiculous at times.  But the shoots have been steady growing sometimes slower sometimes faster.  Now as I look at the stump it is no longer a stump.  It is tree.  It has a trunk and branches and leaves.  It can weather the storms that enemy sends and the criticism that comes.  I can even handle making art that I don't like.  It doesn't send me into a fit of self doubt and fear.  I can look at it and say, "Well that experiment didn't go well. Guess I will try it another way."  I used to be paralyzed by fear of failing or making something ugly.  I would get stuck and not even try because I didn't want to "waste supplies".  Now I just play and create.  I can always get more supplies.  Usually even if I don't like what I have created I can change directions and end up with something different that I do like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The smell of His water woke me up and the constant shower of His grace has grown the dead stump into a pretty stout tree which is getting stronger by the day.  Hopefully, I can be shade to other broken people so they can have a safe place to smell His water and be resurrected into trees as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);" class=" down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Link" class="gl_link" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-4351441044761079916?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/4351441044761079916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/scent-of-water.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4351441044761079916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4351441044761079916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/scent-of-water.html' title='The Scent of water'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ufGKbS_yyPs/TyGieWvFkyI/AAAAAAAAAGs/vE50flLkR_E/s72-c/405468_3089671201539_1256733377_3352199_31810113_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-750670033121810719</id><published>2012-01-18T07:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T09:41:14.634-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ethiopia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='processing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>Processing through the trip</title><content type='html'>I am just going to say that the next few weeks or months may be the busiest this blog has been in quite a long time.  For some reason I just could not express what was going on inside of me via email.  I did update, but is was pretty much just dry recounting of the activities of the days.  Now that I am home, I see that there is a lot to process and talk about.  I just couldn't get myself in the place to do that until I got home.  Sitting here now at my desk, on my computer, with my music in my ears and the time to write I can see there is a lot to say.  I am not going to be chronological about what I write or even try to totally make sense of it all.  There may be a lot sometimes and very little other times.  I plan to write about what bubbles to the surface as it churns up.   There was so much going on the the secret place of my heart while I was in Ethiopia; I will try to share what I find along the way.  Hopefully it will be a blessing to a few who may choose to read.  I know it will be a blessing to me to let the words come out of my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is what is bubbling this morning.  The last couple days in Ethiopia I came across a book called Made to Crave:  Satisfying Your Deepest Desire For God, not Food by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lysa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Turkherst&lt;/span&gt;.  It was on my mom's nook and I had already read the two books I put on the Nook for my trip.  I began to read it and God began to really unearth some stuff in me.  I have known that I have food issues for a long time, but I have not really been able to get the the true root of the problem.  Nor have I ever been able to feel like I have been given the weapons and tools I needed to be able to find victory, by His grace, in the food battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to back up a few steps and say that I think that the timing for beginning to read this book could not have been more perfect.  I had just finished read the book Forever by Paul David Tripp ( I cannot even go into that book; it will have to be another post).  I also read The Scent of Water by Naomi Zacharias (another one that maybe will bubble to the surface as I write about this trip).  I had also finished reading The Invisible Hand by RC &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sproul&lt;/span&gt; right before the trip.  These three books all seemed to prepare me for the message God had for me about food through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Lysa&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip did not end being exactly what we had all planned.  One of the main organizations I had gone to serve with in Ethiopia was still hung up in the licensing stage when I arrived.  None of us dreamed that things would still be hung up when we planned this trip 4 months ago.  Because I had read the Invisible Hand before I left and had spent a lot of time meditating on the providence of God and how He is in, among and behind everything that goes on in our lives, I was not really concerned or disrupted by anything that was going on.  I knew that God had arranged every detail of  this trip from the suitcases that did not arrive with me, the disrupted water in the house, and the slow license process.  I was able to really, for the most part, rest in His hand and take what He had in mind for the trip.  I had a lot of time to read and pray and rest.  The first couple days were very relaxed and slow.  Since I tend to run 90 to nothing all the time, I felt pretty sure that God wanted me to have some slow days.  My mind even goes while I sleep.  I think that is why I am such a light sleeper, because I am constantly taking in and interpreting the details around me even while I sleep.  The rest and time to read and slow down was really good for me.  I knew that since God was totally in control of the my life and the universe that some time was exactly what He thought I needed.  I really thought that I was going to Ethiopia to serve people and love on children.  I have come to realize that I went to Ethiopia to be changed.  This trip was more about what God wanted to do in me than what He wanted me to do for Him.  I had no idea that God was taking me around to world to do a quiet, gentle, steady reworking of my heart.  Each day He would wake me up, place me on His potters wheel and gently form me, remove junk in preparation to return me to my family, community and church a vessel prepared to love in a way completely different than I had ever been able to love.  He asked me to go and I said yes, I just had no idea that He was sending me across the globe to do some really deep healing in me.  He took me away from my responsibilities, my distractions, the things that keep me wound so tight so that He could unwind the tightness in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a morning person to the tee.  It can be obnoxious how early my body decides to wake up with no alarm just naturally roll over and have no more sleep in my eyes.  This gave me many hours to be still, pray, read, and journal while I waited for the normal people to wake up.  I really do not mind that at all; it is, in fact, my very favorite time of the day.  If I wake up later, I usually feel pretty disappointed about missing out on my quiet dark morning.  I don't think I really had any idea while I was in Ethiopia the depth of what God was doing in the secret places inside of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't know if I can totally define the changes inside of me.  I felt God speaking, untangling, and removing stuff.  I had bought a pretty thick journal to take on trip so I would have something kind of special to keep track of the trip.   I pretty much filled up like 3/4 of it in two weeks; that is crazy.  As I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;journaled&lt;/span&gt; and prayed I felt a recurring desire and prayer come out of me that I would go back distinctly changed by my trip and that I would carry back the beauty and gentleness I felt God stirring in me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning I was so struck by some distinct differences I see more clearly now that I am back in my normal environment.  First, as I did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Pilate's&lt;/span&gt; this morning, I realized for the first time in my life I did not feel hatred for my body.  I struggled with body image and a very distinct hatred for the shape my body takes.  I never remember a time in my life when I felt content about my weight or shape.  I have felt fat my whole life.  Even at times in my life when I have been a good weight and been in shape, I was never happy.  I have always felt completely disgusted in my body.  There was a chapter in the Made to Crave book that talked about beauty and finding beauty in beauty God gave us.  It really began to sink in and remove some really strong lies I have believed for as long as I remember.  It started to remove some unrealistic expectations in me.  I realize the utter arrogance that it takes to call what God creates flawed.  I have spent my whole life telling God that He should have done better when he made me.  I have bought into the idea that I did not measure up to some impossible standard.  Then one day riding in the van I realized that if God wanted us all to be the same shape, size and build, He would have made us that way.  The beauty is in the amazing diversity He placed in all of us.  We are beautiful b/c we are different.  We are beautiful because some of us are tall and thin, some of us are short and stocky; we are all different sizes and shapes because He thinks that is beautiful.  Who am I to tall my creator that what He made is not good enough?  He is the artist? He chooses what is beautiful.  So I started asking Him to help me see the beauty in how He uniquely and individually made me.  Knowing that I cannot change my heart, only He can, I began to ask Him to change my heart and to help me see myself the way He saw me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there were several things in the book that really stood out to me.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Lysa&lt;/span&gt; said that the number on the scale tells me how much my body weighs, but it does not tell me my value.  In another part of the book she talks about a friend of hers and how God helped her see that she could not measure success in a week by the number on the scale.  The measure of success is a few questions:  did I overeat this week, did I exercise more this week,  did I eat in secret or out of anger or frustration, did I at any time choose food over God, before I hopped on the scale did I feel like it was a successful week?  Questions like that look at the heart which is really the most important factor.  These two passages really took that food out of the physical realm and into the heart realm for the first time for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is my body at it most optimum weight, right now?  Probably not.  I could be in better shape definitely.  Now, though, my focus doesn't feel so much about a number on the scale or a clothing size.  My focus can be on seeking God and measuring where I am at by my heart.  The weight is a symptom of a sinful relationship with food.  Going on some crazy restrictive diet and exercise program will never be the answer.  I have done that over and over.  I have been a yo-yo.  I have lost and gained that way without ever dealing with the heart of the matter.  I realize in Ethiopia that food is the oldest addiction I have.  It goes back farther than I can remember.  It by far supersedes the drugs or alcohol.    Sugar was the first drug I indulged in.  I have often talked about how my alcoholism can definitely continues in the way I eat sugar.  The thought had never &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt; to me that the alcohol is a continuation of the sugar addiction from very early childhood.  Talk about having things reversed.  Sugar was the earliest comfort I can remember.  I remember being very very young and binging on candy and cookies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having been shown so many things and dealing with the roots of the tree as well as being given tools to deal with this problem led me to this huge breakthrough this morning.    I am not where I would like to be, but I know what I need to do to get there.  I can measure progress not by numbers on a scale, but by where my heart has been for the day or week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I did my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Pilate's&lt;/span&gt; this morning, I realized that I did not hate my body.  I was content.  My value for the first time in my life was not tied to how I looked.  I could see the beauty in the way God made me.  I was able to delight in the amazing way that my muscles move and respond to the exercises I was doing.  When I got out of the shower across from the floor to ceiling mirrored closet doors, I did not look at my hips with absolute disgust and disdain.  I looked and it was okay.  I was beautiful exactly how I was.  I am not perfect, but the imperfection is the beauty.  I cannot ever  remember looking in the mirror and being happy with what I saw.  I cannot even put into words how huge this is for me.  Only God could unravel that huge mess that has been wrapped around me for my entire life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I have come home from Ethiopia more whole and free.  I feel this contentment and rest in my soul that I have never felt.  It's like God removed the knob inside of me that kept everything wound so tight.  I feel loose, at peace; the intensity tightness is gone.  I don't feel like there is such a tightness in my chest.  There is an ease about the way I feel, walk, think, and react.  I feel so at peace and rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that is all there is to bubble for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-750670033121810719?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/750670033121810719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/processing-through-trip.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/750670033121810719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/750670033121810719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/processing-through-trip.html' title='Processing through the trip'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3295706728591229022</id><published>2012-01-13T09:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T09:17:46.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I told story.  I am doing another update.  I will probably have to  add in a lot of details about things I have seen and done here when I  get home and have time to process.  I have so much to say about today.   I will just say that today I got to realize a dream that has been in my  heart for years.  I got to go and tour the Hamlin Fistula Hospital in  Addis Ababa.  It was started in 1959 by Dr. Hamlin.  The grounds are so  beautiful and the wards are so peaceful.  There were so many girls  there.  It was amazing that so many were being helped, but so sad that  so many needed to be helped.  It was very beautiful to be there, but  also very hard to see.  There were so many really really young girls.  I  can't really put all the details in right now.  I promise a longer post  about the hospital once I get home and get to process and take time to  write in the comfort of my space.  At one point we went into the  physiotherapy room and got to see them doing some physical therapy.   These are the girls who have had Fistulas for 5 to 7 or even more  years.  They were thought of as sick and sent to die in a hut in the  back of a relatives house.  They basically sit cross legged in a tiny  structure, refuse to eat and wait to die.  It took all the strength I  could must not to fall apart. I did cry, but I managed to keep some sort  of control.  I wanted to run up to them, hug them, and tell them how  beautiful they are.  They have to do months of physical therapy and  highly nutritious food to even be strong enough to have surgery to fix  the fistula. It was really really hard to see.  I feel like I want to do  something more to help make things better for them.  I know that most  of them are having their lives dramatically changed by being treated at  the Fistula hospital, but I wish I could do something more for them.  At  the end we got to go in and buy things the girls had made while they  recover.  Really amazing beautiful things that I bought a ton of.  The  money for the crafts goes directly to the girls when they leave the  hospital.  Like I said, there is so much more to post, but it will be  later.  It was a beautiful and emotional day.  It was the realization of  another dream I had in my heart.  I got to buy some super cool shoes  here called Soul Rebels.  They are awesome and made in country here.   They are really unique and WAY better than Toms which I refuse to wear  b/c everyone wears them now.  Only a few more days til I come home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3295706728591229022?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3295706728591229022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-i-told-story.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3295706728591229022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3295706728591229022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/so-i-told-story.html' title=''/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3513410175172494925</id><published>2012-01-10T04:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T04:42:10.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is not too much to report.  I got to go to an international church  yesterday.  It was very African.  I had a pretty laid back day the rest  of the day.  I took the first nap I have taken since I got here and  ended up regretting it b/c I could not sleep.  Sunday night I watched  the Benkerts children so they could have a night out. It was nice. We  made puppets out of pipe cleaners, popsicle sticks, pom poms and googly  eyes.   The kids had a blast. It was fun to see how creative they were  with different kinds of creatures.   We had vegetable soup for dinner.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today (Monday) we went the market.  It was really neat.   I bought some stuff bring home so I can cook a little Injira food.  I  love all the food here and could eat like this every day.  I think I  could give up most of the western diet.  I understood a little better  what was going on in the market today.  I took a few pictures.  I got a  lot of attention in the market.  I had pants and a long sleeves on when I  went into the market the first day.  Today I had capris and a short  sleeve shirt.  People kept stopping and commenting on my tattoos using  the Amharic word for beautiful.  The market is really really neat.  I  had a great time walking around.  This week I am going to Debre Zeit to  do some art with an art class that one of Jessie's friend teaches.   Later in the week I am going to tour the Addis Ababa Fistula hospital  and I am also going to go and take pictures of the kids at the Embracing  Hope for Ethiopia program to give as gifts to the moms.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am definitely missing my family.  I am kind of ready to get back to the normal routine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sorry this is so short.  Nothing to exciting to report. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3513410175172494925?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3513410175172494925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/there-is-not-too-much-to-report.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3513410175172494925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3513410175172494925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/there-is-not-too-much-to-report.html' title=''/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-8819209876476099326</id><published>2012-01-09T04:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T04:23:21.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hopefully, I can get further today.  I was pretty upset when I realized  on the way over to the EHE project that I couldn't do the pictures for  the kids and the moms b/c my suitcases were somewhere in never land.   They were telling Larry and mom that they did not know where they were  and Ethiopia was telling me that they were in Dallas. I was trying to  keep my cool, but I was not very excited.  I came to the point that  morning over to the project I started to think that the suitcases were  not going to come to me and that I just needed to let go and be okay  with that.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to the project and got to spend a lot of time  visiting with Jerry and Christy Shannon.  It was so great to hear how  things started out and how much the moms had been impacted.  I got to  meet the little girl that I sponsor and take her picture.  She is  usually really shy about new people, but she was all smiles with me and  crawled all over me.  I took pictures of all of the kids and played a  lot.  They were so happy and cute.  Some of the older ones (they are all  3 and under) kept talking to me in Amharic, but I could not understand  them.  They love to get pictures made and look at themselves on the  camera after.  I sad down and worked on some ideas on jewelry for the  beads that had been made.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the end of the day they were doing distribution  of goods to the moms.  They get Teff and oil every 3 months, plus they  got clothing distribution and sanitation distribution b/c it was  Ethiopian Christmas this weekend.  It is such a great project and it is  so good to see how much the little that EHE is able to do is impacting  the families.  I am blown away to think that these childrens' whole  trajectory of life has been shifted b/c of what the Shannons are doing.   Some of these babies were very sick and on the brink of death when they  were enrolled in the program.  To see them walking and smiling and  growing is amazing.  Many of the moms were not from Addis Ababa, but had  come here either looking for a better life or with husbands that have  since abandoned them.  They have no family and no one here.  One of the  amazing and great things that has happened due to being in EHE is that  the moms have developed community together.  They aren't alone anymore.   Last week the Shannon's got approved to expand from 31 children to 60,  so they will begin this week hiring new staff and interviewing  applicants to expand.  I am so blessed to be able to be here and see  such an amazing program impacting so many people.  I feel like the  ripples of these type of programs are going to go so much further than  we can imagine.  If you are looking for a really great and impactful  place to give consider this program.   At the end of the day I was able  to meet Hannah's mom (the little girl our family sponsors).  It was so  amazing.  She told me through the translator thank you and that it was  beautiful what I was doing to help.  I took a picture with them.  It was  so great.  I am going to print one for her to keep as well.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the end of the day, Jerry got a text from Levi  that the airline called and asked why we hadn't come to get my bags yet.   Levi had called just a couple hours earlier and was told that they  were still in Dallas.  Needless to say, we were very excited.  I ate  dinner with the Shannon's then Levi picked me up and we headed to the  airport.  Getting out of the airport the bags have to be run through the  xray machine again.  They thought my sidewalk chalk was medicine, but  when I showed it to them, they let me through.  All in all it was a good  day.  The Bring love In project got an approval letter too, so they are  one step closer to being open.  Lot's of good news.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point it was Wednesday and I had still not been able to take a hot shower, or any shower for that matter.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday  we left in the morning and headed north outside of Addis Ababa to the  Portuguese bridge.  It is an area about two hours north out in the  country.  It was beautiful.  I got some really great pictures.  It was  super super super cold.  I thought I was going to freeze to death.  I  just thought that the Benkerts house was cold.  I did get to take a hot  shower.  That was really exciting.  It was my first hot shower since  leaving Dallas on Saturday.  We had a great time.  In the cabin, though,  I had trouble getting to sleep.  I was seriously freezing.  Even with  two wool blankets on the bed my feet were frozen.  And the bed was made  out of concrete with a thin pad on it.  As I dozed in and out trying to  sleep, I just kept thinking, "oh man, there are people sleeping in this  cold on hard floors and that is just the life they have.  I get to go  back to the states and have a soft bed, warm shower, and heat.  I feel  so sad for those who have no other options.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got up and had another relaxing day at the bridge  watching the kids have fun then we headed back.  Since the next day was  Melkam Gena (Ethiopian Christmas) we passed a market that was swarming  with people preparing.  I got some really great pictures as we drove. I  hope to be able to post them when I get back to the states.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got back into Addis late last night and we were  all totally warn out.  I was also burnt to a crisp.  We are closer to  the sun and closer to the equator.  When I got up this morning, this was  the first day I really really missed my family.  I can't wait to hug  their necks.  Two weeks was a lot longer than I thought it would be.  Jessie Benkert and I went to the movie and lunch today (Saturday).  It  was really nice.  I am going to church with the Shannon's tomorrow. I  will try and update next chance I get.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-8819209876476099326?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/8819209876476099326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/hopefully-i-can-get-further-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8819209876476099326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8819209876476099326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/hopefully-i-can-get-further-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-2791450345383679479</id><published>2012-01-08T07:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T07:55:27.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); display: inline !important; float: none; "&gt;I have been out of internet contact the last day and a half, so I just keep getting further and further behind on my updates.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;On my last update I forgot to talk about the bucket bath.  The water here has not been working right; it started a few weeks before I got here.  That has made things pretty interesting.  I really don't mind it at all.  It does make things a little more complicated, but I feel like it gives me a more realistic view of life here.  I am glad that things are somewhat challenging so that I get the real missionary experience, not a watered down version of it.  I have been brushing my teeth and washing my hands with cups of water.  We haul water upstairs to fill the tanks in the toilet for flushing.  On the first day here, after the day and a half of flying, I felt pretty dirty.  I got to take a bucket bath.  We boiled a couple of kettles of water, mixed it with some cold water and I used that to wash my hair and body off.  It was FREEZING!!!! Anyone who knows me knows that I do not like to be cold.  I think I mentioned in my last update that though it gets warm outside each day the nights are cool and the house stays really cold because it does not get hot enough to warm the concrete.  I know Larry would love it.  I could go out and get warm and he could stay in the cold house.  I had a pretty good attitude about the bucket bath, but it was not my favorite.  I opted out of taking a bucket bath for the next couple days.  I just put in extra deodorant and put my hair in a pony tail.  I understand that is just kind of how it goes here.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;The second day I was here, my first full day, we got up and had a pretty laid back day.  We had planned to go early to the Shannons house and look at the project they run, Embracing Hope Ethiopia, but ended up hanging around the house due to some other things that needed to be taken care of.  The way things go, plans are pretty loose around here.  Nothing ever really goes as planned or in the timing planned.  I did wake up at my usual time about 430.  I guess that is really where I left off the last one.  I got to read a bit and journal and just relax.  That must have been what God knew that I needed.  After all the other stuff was taken care of we headed off to the Shannons'.  I got to meet Christy first and just as I knew I would totally loved her.  We got to visit a bit.  After a little bit of visiting, we headed back out to come home.  I got to drive by the project and see it in passing.  My heart just felt so drawn to it.  I was so sad that we could not stop.  I really felt such a connection to that part of town.  There is a visible change as you head to the part of town where Embracing Hope is.  It is in the Korah village which is connected to the land fill.  You can see the poverty in the buildings and in the way the people dress.  I felt such a draw toward the people.  I could not wait til the next day when we could go back and spend some real time at the project.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;Levi and I left about 830 am the next morning so I could be dropped off to spend the day at EHE (Embracing Hope Ethiopia).  I had packed up the photo printer prepared to take pictures of the kids so we could print them and give them to the mom.  On the way over, I realized that I did not have the picture paper to print the pictures on because it was in my suitcases.  That morning was the first morning that I was really kind of bothered by the fact the I didn't have my suitcases.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I have to end here b/c the battery is about to die on the computer and everyone has gone to bed.  I will pick up more tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-2791450345383679479?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/2791450345383679479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-have-been-out-of-internet-contact.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/2791450345383679479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/2791450345383679479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-have-been-out-of-internet-contact.html' title=''/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3272102165796893895</id><published>2012-01-06T11:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T11:40:01.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); display: inline !important; float: none; "&gt;This one is probably going to be short b/c I have had a long eventful day and I am tired.  But I don't want to get too far behind.  I want to get through the travel stuff so I can get to the fun stuff.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;So I got on the plane from London to Addis Ababa.  I had a window seat with someone sitting beside me, so it wasn't nearly as comfortable as the flight to London was.  I read for a bit, then fell asleep.  Walking around London had been pretty exhausting.  I woke up not too long after take off.  The guy beside me was really nice.  We struck up a conversation about our huge carry on fees.  As it turned out he was a Economics professor.  We chatted about politics and economics, most of which I did not understand.  I wanted to be polite and let him talk though so I nodded and listened.  He had been born in Ethiopia and was traveling back to visit. He had been in the US for 36 years.  At some point during the flight he got up to go to the bathroom and I jumped up to grab something out of my backpack.  I lifted the arm rest up to get up quickly before he came back.  I forgot to put it back down.   When I fell back asleep and he did too, he ended up all sprawled out on my side in my space.  Because the arm rest wasn't down he was seriously in my space.  I couldn't, however, put the arm rest down without being rude.  So I dozed in and out and reminded myself about how many people warned me that people in Ethiopia do not have personal space or respect for it.  I figured this was a good time to start getting used to it and and to be reminded that life wasn't all about me.  I did not sleep so well during this leg of the journey.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;We arrived in Addis and I was so glad to finally be here. It was definitely a long journey.  I had to wait in a really long line to get my visa after waiting a very long time in the wrong line.  Then I went get my luggage.  My carry on which I had been forced to check came out, but unfortunately after seeing the same box of oil go past me on the luggage belt I realized that the other bags did not make it with me.  I had known that there was a chance that the bags wouldn't have made it on the plane.  I went to find Levi and figure out where I needed to file a claim.  My carry on and back pack had to go through a security check point xray machine.  The man tried to get me to pay a bribe to get my photo printer in, but I played dumb and acted like I didn't understand what he was trying to say to me. He finally got annoyed and gave up on me.  I got my bags and found Levi.  We found out I had to go back into the main arrival gate to file a claim.  At the claim site I filed a claim and found out that my bags were still in Dallas.  Wow!!!! She assured me that they would go on the next plane to Addis Ababa once she entered the claim and should be here by the next day.  I didn't get them until I had been here for 3 days.  I was pretty tired but super excited about finally being in Ethiopia.  The first few minutes of talking the Jessie and Levi were slightly awkward, but after about 15 minutes we were like old friends.  I really love these guys.  I feel so comfortable in their house and with them.  It's like we have been friends for a lifetime.  I knew that the best way to settle into this time zone was to stay awake all day and go to sleep at bed time.  I really wanted to do that b/c I didn't want to miss any time here. I wanted to get into the groove and be able to hit the ground running.  I fought fiercely to stay awake.  There were many times I got myself dozing off sitting straight up.  I went to the big market with Jesse; that was neat.  I went to the grocery store.  We ate a delicious dinner cooked by the cook that prepares food for them.  I kept dozing off, but I would get up and walk around when I realized that I had fallen asleep.  I was determined to make the transition in one day and not lose any time.  Finally at 745 my eyes were starting to cross even standing up and Jessie said she thought it was late enough.  I went upstairs and realized that I did not have my super comfy pj's and my security thermal shirt and was sad.  Jessie lent me some clothes to sleep in.  The house is like a meat locker; seriously.  The sun doesn't really hit the house right to warm it and it is all concrete, so it is super cold.  I wasn't really expecting that.  I put in my ear plugs and fell deep asleep.  I woke up at my normal 430 am which I was excited about. It is my favorite time of the day and gave me quiet time to pray and prepare for the day before anyone else was awake.  I did my Pilates and went down stairs for coffee and quiet time.  I have to say that I LOVE LOVE LOVE Ethiopian coffee.  We drink it in a french press at the Benkerts and it is so delicious.  It is the best coffee I have ever drunk.  I will be bringing a bunch home.  I do not like Starbucks Ethiopia Sidamo at all so I wasn't sure how I would feel about it.  I love it.  I don't want to drink anything else.  It has the best flavor and undertone. It is amazing.  Oh and milk comes in a bag here.  Weird.  More tomorrow.  I promise tomorrow we will get into the really interesting stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3272102165796893895?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3272102165796893895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/this-one-is-probably-going-to-be-short.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3272102165796893895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3272102165796893895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/this-one-is-probably-going-to-be-short.html' title=''/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-5475165062809225222</id><published>2012-01-04T14:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T14:24:30.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Flight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); display: inline !important; float: none; "&gt;Okay here is the update about the trip over.  I got to the airport pretty early and made it through security without too much trouble.  My glitter and my printer showed up on the xray machines as a problem, so I got to have the security person go through my bag.  I was nervous about the bags, what would be a problem or whether my big backpack would be a problem.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I had a good time sitting, reading, working on the hand quilt that I brought to start on this trip.  It was nice to not have any real responsibilities or people to tend to.  The first complication happened right off the bat.  The flight was supposed to leave at 5:25 pm.  At 5 they told us that they were waiting to hear from the crew, but that there was going to be a slight delay.  At 5:15 they informed us that the pilot had called in sick and they were waiting for the pilot that was going to take his place was tied up in Houston due to weather.  The flight was delayed for 2 hours which would effect anyone with a connecting flight in Washington, so we were told to line up so we could try and get things worked out to get to where we were going.  While in line the Flight was cancelled.  I was a little stressed because I have never traveled internationally like this, so I didn't know what I was supposed to do.  I was reminded that the world is not about me and that God is in control.  That being the case I saw no reason to get upset.  Others around me were getting upset, but I didn't see that it would help the situation at all to get upset or be rude.  I just started praying that He would help me stay calm, not be rude and to work things out.  As it turned out, everyone was instructed to go to the ticket counter to rebook, except those who were going to London or Boston.  That was grace number one.  Three of us were going to London.  We were rebooked onto an American Airlines flight direct to London.  We didn't even have to go to Washington DC.  The Flight attendant told me that the flight left in 30 minutes, so I had to literally run to get to the sky tram to the other gate.  Also, she told me she wasn't sure that they would be able to get my bags onto the plane before I left.  The other option was to leave the next day which totally changed flights, arrival times, etc.  I decided I could run and that I would chance the suitcases.  When I got to the gate, the Flight Attendant put me in the back row with an empty seat next to me, that would be grace number 2.  That was great; I slept like a baby in the plane on the way from DFW to London.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I arrived in London super excited to be there.  I left the airport, took the Express train into the city and took off walking.  Well, first I checked my rolling suitcase into a storage place; the guy at the storage place gave me a map.  I really just wondered around the city.  I really had no idea where I was going, but I was really content to be just wondering.  It was quiet, there was no pressure to have to be anywhere or worry about where anyone else wanted to go or what they wanted to do.  I really enjoyed the quiet, aimless wondering.  I found a street with artist exhibiting and selling art.  I really like some of the art.  I bought a picture that was small enough to put in my backpack.  I loved a bunch that I wanted to buy, but I just couldn't get them into me bag.  I got the contact of both of the artist who had art that I really loved.  Both of them said they could ship to me.  The artist I bought from was really sweet and really grateful that I bought one of his pictures.  He told me that 2011 had been a really hard year for him and that I had made his day and his year on the last day of the year because I bought a piece of his art. That made buying the picture even better.  I bought the picture b/c I really liked it, he negotiated a good price with me, and as an artist I know that I put my heart and my soul into the things that I make just hoping that what I put into it touches someone else.  Having someone love something I made and buy it from me really means a lot and makes my day as well.  It just made it doubly wonderful that it meant so much to me.  I also enjoyed visiting with the two artist for a little while.  Here is the web site for one of the artists  &lt;a href="http://www.richardpriceart.co.uk/" target="_blank" style="color: rgb(17, 85, 204); "&gt;www.richardpriceart.co.uk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="position: relative; visibility: visible; background-image: url(chrome-extension://bhmmomiinigofkjcapegjjndpbikblnp/skin/fusion/16_16/plain/r0.png); background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; margin-left: 4px; padding-bottom: 2px; display: inline-block; cursor: pointer; width: 16px; height: 16px; background-position: 100% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; "&gt; &lt;/div&gt;.  This is the one I couldn't buy from b/c his pieces were too big.  I really wanted a couple of them and hope to be able to purchase from him when I get back.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I found a park and decided to sit down and write about what had happened so far in my journey.  At the park a squirrel came up literally a foot from me.  I will post pictures of that later.  I wondered around some more, but I had worn the wrong shoes.  My feet were beginning to hurt really bad.  My back was hurting b/c my back pack was ridiculously full causing it to be ridiculously heavy.  Once it started to rain on me I decided to call it a day.  I had brought a rain poncho, but had left it in the bag I stored rather than having it in my backpack.  Yay me!!!!  I found some stuff to buy for the kids from London and headed back to the train station.  By that point I was exhausted and my back and feet were killing me.  I thought it was silly that I had not seen any real tourist spots nor taken a tour.  I did enjoy being able to just wonder around pressureless. I had to pay to go to the bathroom at Paddington station.  I thought that was pretty silly.  I asked a lady to help me with which coins to insert and she said it was on her and paid for me to enter the bathroom.  At that point I picked up my bag and headed for the train.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I got back to the airport with lots of time to spare and hung out waiting for the plane.  Challenge number two came when the gate finally open for boarding.  There I found out that our carry ons could only be 7 kilos.  I had been totally unaware of this restriction.  I would have definitely packed differently had I known that.  I packed my carry ons pretty heavy so that my checked bags would be under weight.  The checked bags ended up having like 15 pounds to spare.  So when they weighed my bags to be 21 kilos and said the charge was 100 pounds or $200 dollars my heart was not so happy.  What could I do, though.  Either I pay the fee and check my other carry on or leave my bag (with my clothes, printer, some of my craft supplies and a lot of other stuff) in London.  I had prayed an hour earlier for God to give me grace and help me be kind, and to behave in a way the honored Him and dignified the people that I encountered.  I prayed that b/c I knew I was exhausted, my feet and back were hurting and I know it can be challenging to be kind and Christlike when in that state of mind.  Standing in front of the airline guy who was telling me that I had to give him $200 for my bag, I was really grateful that the Holy Spirit had inspired and stirred me to pray that prayer.  I heard a lot of people get really angry and mistreat the airline guy.  I didn't want to be one of those people.  It was a very large chunk of my mission trip money to cough up.  I spoke silently to God telling Him that this was all His money anyway and that the bags were full b/c of all the art supplies and things for my missionary friends that my other bags contained.  I told Him that all those art supplies and what I was going to be able to do with them was worth more than $200.  In the end I was able to keep my cool and be at peace.  God provided all the money for my trip and He knew what I needed to be able to pay my way in Ethiopia for two weeks and even knew that this money was going to be required of me even when I did not.  I just had to see the $200 as a gift to the Lord which came from being able to bring art supplies and love on kids.  He will provide and take care of me while I am here.  I was able to pay the guy, tell him that I was really sorry that he was being mistreated by so many people and to have a great day.  All and all God was able to help me take it all in stride, and not act un Christlike.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I will take up the flight from London to Addis Ababa later. I am out of time and there is stuff to talk about on that flight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-5475165062809225222?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/5475165062809225222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/flight.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/5475165062809225222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/5475165062809225222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/flight.html' title='The Flight'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3290161784047806512</id><published>2012-01-03T15:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T15:03:47.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on travel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;This post was technically brewing in my brain before I left, but I did not find the time to write the post before I left. As I woke up Saturday morning, knowing I was leaving to go to Ethiopia that day, I took some time to get really quiet and still, so I could pray and listen.  I really wanted to be able to be prepared for the trip.  I wanted to be open to whatever God wanted to do in or through me on the way over. I had such an overwhelming sense of God's presence and His peace as I sat quietly.  I felt so surrounded and overwhelmed by Him.  What I really felt Him impressing on my heart and stirring me to pray about was really, really being present and engaged in everything around me as I traveled.  Sometime I can be so  distracted by my mind which always seems to be going a million miles an hour.  Sometimes I miss what is really going on around me b/c I am so in my head planning or thinking or processing.  I am where I am, but just not fully aware of everything that my senses could be taking in.  I felt like I needed to be very intentional on the plane, in the airport, and all along the trip to take in what was going one around me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;What did I see with my eyes?  Not just this is an airport, but what are the details my eyes see in the airport?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;What do I smell?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;What do I hear?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I wanted to notice the people around me, what did they look like?  What were they doing? What were they saying?  Did God have anything to say about them?  Did He want me to engage them?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;How did I feel?  What was going on in my mind?  In my emotions?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); "&gt;I just felt like I really needed to take in what was going on around me.  God gave me senses to experience the world around me?  My senses are to stir my affections for Him and tell me about what is going on that I can see and maybe sometimes what I can't see.  It can be so easy to take the fact that my five senses work, because they do work so well.  It would be very sad to not truly appreciate my senses until one of them is gone.  I had a sense that He did not want me to be so wrapped up in getting to the destination (getting to Ethiopia), that I missed the adventure and experience of the journey.  I guess that has kind of been the theme He has been recently speaking to me about life over and over.  I have, in the past, been so focused on the end destination of so many times that I missed all that I could have gotten on the journey.  I finally understand that the journey is as important as the destination.  Yes, where God is taking us is important, but He is also working in us along the way. He wants for me to get so much more as we go than I usually get due to not really understanding the importance of the path that gets me to where I am going.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3290161784047806512?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3290161784047806512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/thoughts-on-travel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3290161784047806512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3290161784047806512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2012/01/thoughts-on-travel.html' title='Thoughts on travel'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-8431592818163092656</id><published>2011-12-30T08:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T09:39:17.714-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='artist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='five minute friday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cocoon'/><title type='text'>Five Minute Friday: Open</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-auUsAQHsaRA/Tv33AmTWM_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/c3jdgS3iOyk/s1600/2011-12-30%2B11.01.34%25281%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-auUsAQHsaRA/Tv33AmTWM_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/c3jdgS3iOyk/s320/2011-12-30%2B11.01.34%25281%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691977093719929842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IYgePFzLXF0/Tv32xco5uCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/q2Td1Ith5Lo/s1600/2011-12-30%2B11.02.00%25281%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IYgePFzLXF0/Tv32xco5uCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/q2Td1Ith5Lo/s320/2011-12-30%2B11.02.00%25281%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691976833427945506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an amazing and timely prompt for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I go into this new year pondering what the Lord has for me this is the feeling I have.  I am beginning this new year with a 17 day trip to Ethiopia to serve.  I am open to whatever God wants to do and excited for Him to work in me and through me.  I don't know what to expect, but I am open.  I have been open by saying yes to join in the adventure.  I have said yes to leaving me comfort, my rhythm, my safety and diving into something new and big and scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also feel like the last few months have been challenging to me.  I have been a little off and a little different.  Maybe it's been a little dark even.  Now I realize I have been in a cacoon.  I have been preparing for the next phase of my journey.  I have felt the cocoon opening the last few weeks.  I feel like i am emerging as a butterfly.  There are so many amazing things stirring in me.  I am taking some art classes.  I am starting to  dance one again.  I am beginning to take all the really great techniques that i have been learning and merge them into new and interesting expressions of beauty and goodness.  I feel filled with excitement, anticipation, joy, vision, and direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wings are spreading.  I am open to the new the God wants to do.  I am open to where He wants to lead me, challenge me, and ask me to go.  I see so much light as the cocoon is breaking open and the arts begin once again to flow out of me like a river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, I want to be open to all that you are and all that you want to do.  Free me from fear and the desire for safety.  Help me to say yes, live dangerously and wonder at how small I would make my life compared to how big a life you have in mind for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the top is some of the Art coming out of the cocoon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-8431592818163092656?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/8431592818163092656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/five-minute-friday-open.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8431592818163092656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8431592818163092656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/five-minute-friday-open.html' title='Five Minute Friday: Open'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-auUsAQHsaRA/Tv33AmTWM_I/AAAAAAAAAF8/c3jdgS3iOyk/s72-c/2011-12-30%2B11.01.34%25281%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-9129097433112466974</id><published>2011-12-30T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T08:49:39.318-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='serving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neighbor'/><title type='text'>Putting away lying</title><content type='html'>I flipped open my bible to Ephesians and began to read.  It always amazes me that I can choose what I think is a random passage to read and God will illuminate and speak so clearly to me.  I know it shouldn't surprise me by now, but it still evokes a sense of awe in me.    As I read I came to Ephesians 4:25 " Therefore putting away lying, "Let each of you speak truth with his neighbor," for we are members of one another.  It really struck me so I stopped and began to ponder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have read this book of the Bible a thousand times, and have read this verse over and over, but two things struck me about it.  Every other time I have read this verse I have really concentrated on the not lying to one another part.  I really make every effort to tell the truth and not shade it or lie.  When I realize that I have misrepresented something I am pretty quick to go back, admit what I have done and ask for forgiveness.  My children used to really make fun of the fact that mom wouldn't even tell a white lie.  I have gotten the attitude at times from people that this is a fault my refusal to tell any type of lie.  I feel like it is what God wants me to do.  I find sometimes that b/c I am so careful to tell the truth I also generally assume that people are sincerely telling me the truth.  Then I am really surprised and hurt when I find out someone has lied to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enough about that.  What I had never really pondered was the last half of the verse.  For we are members of one another.  I know that the body of Christ is considered members of one another, but I didn't read don't lie to fellow believers b/c we are members of one another, it read don't lie to your neighbor.  So I went on a search to see if anyone else had the same thought process that I had.  Was this verse saying that we are all in fact members of one another?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a lot of reverences to the Body of Christ, but I did also find those that pointed to all of humanity being members of one another.  We are, as humans, part of the same race of created beings.  We all came from the same original set of parents: Adam and Eve.  What we do and say to one another effects us all.  So how does that effect how we should interact with everyone.  We are told not to lie to anyone.  Do we misrepresent?  Do we exaggerate?  Do we take advantage of people's trust?  Do we excuse not being completely honest and transparent in our dealings with people outside of the church, justifying that they are not a part of the family of God?  But aren't they they family of God?  Isn't every human being created in the image of God?  Whether they choose to glorify Him or not, each and every person is an image bearer.  Is there ever a reason to deceive anyone?  What if we made a point to be totally truthful at all time not matter the cost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Romans 13:10 came to my mind.  "Love does no harm to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfillment of the law."  Deceiving anyone is harming them.  If we are out for the good of everyone else, even over ourselves we have no need to lie or harm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lead me to the following list of verses about how to treat people:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Galatians&lt;/span&gt; 6:10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-29182"&gt;10&lt;/sup&gt; So then, &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29182A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Gal%206:10&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29182A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;as we have opportunity, let us &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29182B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Gal%206:10&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29182B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;do good to everyone, and especially to those who are &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29182C&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference C&amp;quot;&amp;gt;C&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Gal%206:10&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29182C" title="See cross-reference C"&gt;C&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;of the household of faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Proverbs 3:27&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-16483"&gt;27&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-16483A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Prov.3:27;John9:4;12:35&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-16483A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due,&lt;sup class="footnote" value="[&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#fen-ESV-16483a&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See footnote a&amp;quot;&amp;gt;a&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;]"&gt;[&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Prov.3:27;John9:4;12:35&amp;amp;version=ESV#fen-ESV-16483a" title="See footnote a"&gt;a&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  when it is in your power to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-2"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;1 Thessalonians 5:15&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-29620"&gt;15&lt;/sup&gt; See that &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29620A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Eph.4:28;1Tim.6:18;[1Thess.5:15]&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29620A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29620B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Eph.4:28;1Tim.6:18;[1Thess.5:15]&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29620B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;seek to do good to one another and to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Romans 12:10&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-28240"&gt;10&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-28240A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Rom%2012:10&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-28240A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Love one another with brotherly affection. &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-28240B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Rom%2012:10&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-28240B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Outdo one another in showing honor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Philippians 2:3&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-29378"&gt;3&lt;/sup&gt; Do nothing from &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29378A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phil%202:3&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29378A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;selfish ambition or &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29378B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phil%202:3&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29378B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;conceit, but in &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29378C&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference C&amp;quot;&amp;gt;C&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phil%202:3&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29378C" title="See cross-reference C"&gt;C&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;humility count others more significant than yourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;1 Peter 5:5-6&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30454"&gt;5&lt;/sup&gt; Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30454A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Pet%205:5-6&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30454A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30454B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Pet%205:5-6&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30454B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;“God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;1 Peter 4:9&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30439"&gt;9&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30439A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1pet%204:9&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30439A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Show hospitality to one another without grumbling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Galatians 6:2&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-29174"&gt;2&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29174A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=GAl%206:2&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29174A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Bear one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;another's&lt;/span&gt; burdens, and &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29174B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=GAl%206:2&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29174B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;so fulfill &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29174C&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference C&amp;quot;&amp;gt;C&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=GAl%206:2&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29174C" title="See cross-reference C"&gt;C&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;the law of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;1 Thessalonians 5:11&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="result-text-style-normal text-html "&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-29616"&gt;11&lt;/sup&gt; Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Ephesians 4:32&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-29288"&gt;32&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29288A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Eph%204:32&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29288A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-29288B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Eph%204:32&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-29288B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Romans 12:16&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-28246"&gt;16&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-28246A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Rom%2012:16&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-28246A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Live in harmony with one another. &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-28246B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Rom%2012:16&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-28246B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.&lt;sup class="footnote" value="[&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#fen-ESV-28246a&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See footnote a&amp;quot;&amp;gt;a&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;]"&gt;[&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Rom%2012:16&amp;amp;version=ESV#fen-ESV-28246a" title="See footnote a"&gt;a&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-28246C&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference C&amp;quot;&amp;gt;C&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Rom%2012:16&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-28246C" title="See cross-reference C"&gt;C&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;Never be wise in your own sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;John 13:34-35&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-26653"&gt;34&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-26653A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%2013:34-35&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-26653A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;A new commandment &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-26653B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%2013:34-35&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-26653B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;I give to you, &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-26653C&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference C&amp;quot;&amp;gt;C&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%2013:34-35&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-26653C" title="See cross-reference C"&gt;C&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;that you love one another: &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-26653D&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference D&amp;quot;&amp;gt;D&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%2013:34-35&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-26653D" title="See cross-reference D"&gt;D&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-26654"&gt;35&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-26654E&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference E&amp;quot;&amp;gt;E&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%2013:34-35&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-26654E" title="See cross-reference E"&gt;E&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I John 3:11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1 For &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30574A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=I%20john%203:11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30574A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;this is the message that you have heard from the beginning, &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30574B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=I%20john%203:11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30574B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;that we should love one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;1 John 4:12&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30599"&gt;12&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30599A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=I%20john%204:12&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30599A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30599B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=I%20john%204:12&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30599B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;his love is perfected in us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="heading passage-class-0"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;1 Peter 4:8&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;p class="txt-sm"&gt;English Standard Version (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30438"&gt;8&lt;/sup&gt; Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since &lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-30438A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=%201pet%204:8&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-30438A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt;love covers a multitude of sins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that is a long list of scriptures.  I guess the point I wanted to make is that we are to love everyone and put their needs above ours.  We are to prefer them over ourselves and refuse to do any harm to anyone.  That includes deceiving, gossiping, ignoring or looking down upon.  Galatians says to do good to everyone and especially the household of faith, but lets not rush into the household of faith part ignoring the do good to EVERYONE.  Just like we wouldn't intentionally harm our own bodies, since everyone is a member of everyone, we are to care for, bless, nourish, cherish and do no harm to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very quickly the other things that stuck out to me was that the "Let each of you speak truth with his neighbor," in the verse is a quote b/c in the verse it is in parenthesis.  So I went on a search for where is was being quoted from.  I found it in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Zechariah 8:16 "There are these things which you should do: speak the truth to one another; judge with truth and judgement for peace in your gates." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much peace would there be internally and relationally if we simply always strive to tell the truth and do no harm to our neighbor no matter the cost to us or what we might have to let go of gaining for ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-9129097433112466974?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/9129097433112466974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/putting-away-lying.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9129097433112466974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9129097433112466974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/putting-away-lying.html' title='Putting away lying'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-6722574075457207061</id><published>2011-12-22T06:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T07:14:28.749-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>Let love be without hypocrisy</title><content type='html'>Romans 12:9 (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;KJV&lt;/span&gt;) days Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really got stuck on Let love be without hypocrisy.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt; says:  Let love be genuine.  I meditated and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;journaled&lt;/span&gt; on this yesterday and today and thought I would share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I seek out a definition for love, I am usually led directly to 1 Cor. 13.  As most people probably are being that it is called the love chapter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Corinthians 13:4-7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-28653"&gt;4&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Love is patient and kind; love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-28653G&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference G&amp;quot;&amp;gt;G&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-28654"&gt;5&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-28655"&gt;6&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-28656"&gt;7&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things&lt;/span&gt;.   (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ESV&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a tall order to do with people whom we spend our lives with, whom we have emotional attachments to.  We fail over and over miserably with them.  Most of the time we don't even try to do that with others we don't know;  we do even less of it with people we don't care for or whose who are not like us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who are we commanded to love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Romans 13:8 Owe no one anything except to love one another, for he who loves another fulfills the law. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Romans 13:10 Love does not harm to a neighbor, therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Matthew 5:43-45 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-23278"&gt;43&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-23279"&gt;44&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-23280"&gt;45&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving without hypocrisy, loving genuinely is not easy.  As a matter of fact it is impossible in ourselves.  It is only possible through His Spirit dwelling in us.  Only when we are full of Him, when we have brought all of our needs to Him and we are not seeking to have them filled any other way, can we poor out unconditional, overflowing, never ending, genuine love.  He is the only source of love.  We cannot manufacture it or find it in ourselves or anyone else.  We can only receive love from Him and give genuine love out to others from the river which flows out of us by His Holy Spirit dwelling in us.  We can be fulfilled in Him and then seek to give or serve with no thought of return because He is our source and we are always full in Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is the only source of unconditional love.  Our love always contains conditions.  We always have mixed motives and in our giving love we are seeking to receive something back.  Perfect love originates in God and exists in us only as we exist in Him and He in us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30603"&gt;I John 4:16&lt;br /&gt;16&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I John 4:19&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9 We love because he first loved us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As He is the only source of love, as He is love, we can only love through Him.  His love abides in us and flows out of us.  This means that those who do not know Him cannot truly love.  Love involves sacrifice; it involves placing others above oneself.  The world does not and cannot teach us that.  Sin causes us to love only self.  The world does not understand it; the world sees this type of behavior as foolish;  love comes only from God.  Anything called love which does not originate from God is not love no matter what it is called.  Love outside of God is hypocrisy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I John 4:9-11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30596"&gt;9&lt;/sup&gt; In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30597"&gt;10&lt;/sup&gt; In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30598"&gt;11&lt;/sup&gt; Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-ESV-30603"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-6722574075457207061?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/6722574075457207061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/let-love-be-without-hypocrisy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6722574075457207061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6722574075457207061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/let-love-be-without-hypocrisy.html' title='Let love be without hypocrisy'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-8700256067274558441</id><published>2011-12-09T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T16:39:59.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parable in the form of ornaments</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H0IiAoXaeBs/TuKqRgeZdBI/AAAAAAAAAE0/IIn059ls1nk/s1600/bringloveinormament.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H0IiAoXaeBs/TuKqRgeZdBI/AAAAAAAAAE0/IIn059ls1nk/s320/bringloveinormament.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684292897446917138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have bee working on these ornaments I am making to raise money for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bringlove&lt;/span&gt;.in.  They ended up being much more popular than I thought they would be.  Because of their popularity I have ended up spending a lot of time making them over the last month or so.  As I have been making them, God has shown me different lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first lesson that came to my heart involved the materials they ornaments are made out of.  They are made out of scraps of material woven into latch hook grid material.  The idea for the ornaments came from a book, so the original idea was not mine.  I just took the concept and made it my own.  All the materials I have used with the exception of the grid are recycled materials.  I have a hard time throwing much of anything away b/c I know almost anything has the potential to be made into art.  I have a drawer that I have been throwing material scraps into since I started sewing.  I didn't have any idea what I would do with it, but I just couldn't bring myself to throw it away.  Now it's so funny that what most people would have sees as rejected, useless fabric has become beautiful in the hands of the artist.  Trash has become art.  It occurred to me as I was working on ornaments  that this is what God does so many times.  I know in the case of me, no one else really saw anything of value when they looked at me.  What people saw was a dirty, homeless punk rock girl.  God picked up the trash and turned it into art.  He took something that seemed to have no value and wove it into something beautiful.  How often do we overlook unseen potential in a person or even a situation b/c we don't take time to change perspectives.  Maybe what we are looking at just needs to be woven into something different, something bigger-like the church.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-8700256067274558441?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/8700256067274558441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/parable-in-form-of-ornaments.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8700256067274558441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8700256067274558441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/parable-in-form-of-ornaments.html' title='Parable in the form of ornaments'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H0IiAoXaeBs/TuKqRgeZdBI/AAAAAAAAAE0/IIn059ls1nk/s72-c/bringloveinormament.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-4836304722538646361</id><published>2011-12-09T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T07:04:01.881-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='artist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='five minute friday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gypsy mama'/><title type='text'>Five Minute Friday: Color</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kGrgWqJ1wuY/TuIjH1rP5_I/AAAAAAAAAEo/1LouN55Y0c4/s1600/392687_2623281462087_1256733377_3124208_777515376_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kGrgWqJ1wuY/TuIjH1rP5_I/AAAAAAAAAEo/1LouN55Y0c4/s320/392687_2623281462087_1256733377_3124208_777515376_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684144297269520370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F8qiK7vawxA/TuIjESJoLLI/AAAAAAAAAEc/EEgdxFiNLYQ/s1600/390337_2623284742169_1256733377_3124209_1734513468_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F8qiK7vawxA/TuIjESJoLLI/AAAAAAAAAEc/EEgdxFiNLYQ/s320/390337_2623284742169_1256733377_3124209_1734513468_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684144236193655986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4pPJAX0wOt8/TuIjA2Ht8aI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/po27lyVi5Aw/s1600/317039_2623288942274_1256733377_3124211_1849281420_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4pPJAX0wOt8/TuIjA2Ht8aI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/po27lyVi5Aw/s320/317039_2623288942274_1256733377_3124211_1849281420_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684144177129845154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G5vbqQ5Xlxc/TuIi9u63abI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ShpDaR_EmHA/s1600/265092_2206053831657_1256733377_2684116_121391_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G5vbqQ5Xlxc/TuIi9u63abI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ShpDaR_EmHA/s320/265092_2206053831657_1256733377_2684116_121391_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684144123657284018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dSuAgv9GIR8/TuIi6ruUKoI/AAAAAAAAAD4/qhEa9S-mlv4/s1600/250040_2071287022571_1256733377_2537993_3813686_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dSuAgv9GIR8/TuIi6ruUKoI/AAAAAAAAAD4/qhEa9S-mlv4/s320/250040_2071287022571_1256733377_2537993_3813686_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684144071259728514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nl0mgWOodoU/TuIi1dpYsPI/AAAAAAAAADs/EL6AvPQ7oAw/s1600/223163_2273497117697_1256733377_2780807_777887_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nl0mgWOodoU/TuIi1dpYsPI/AAAAAAAAADs/EL6AvPQ7oAw/s320/223163_2273497117697_1256733377_2780807_777887_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684143981581611250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be my first time to participate in this exercise.  I have been following, but never get around to doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Here Goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Color is beautiful.  I love bright colors.   I love combinations so complementary colors.  For so many years I wore only black with maybe a splash of red.  I spent years working in the makeup and hair industry and found that to be a perfect excuse to wear only black.  I tended to toward a more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gothic&lt;/span&gt; type style and so black and red worked for me.  That also bled into my art.  It was very dark, black, red and gray color schemes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color represents in my life now is the healing of God in my heart.  I have begun to phase the blacks out and slowly add color.  My wardrobe is changing slowly.  What is really changing is my art.  My art has become so lively, bright.  So outside of the box.  I am becoming so much more adventurous.  The timidity of being scared of the artist in me and scared of failing has been so stripped away and healed.  My art is life and color and a stunning example of God's power to heal and change and restore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That wasn't very long.  and it also wasn't very hard.  Maybe if I would commit to this every Friday I could find more time to use the gift of writing God has given me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-4836304722538646361?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/4836304722538646361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/five-minute-friday-color.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4836304722538646361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4836304722538646361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/12/five-minute-friday-color.html' title='Five Minute Friday: Color'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kGrgWqJ1wuY/TuIjH1rP5_I/AAAAAAAAAEo/1LouN55Y0c4/s72-c/392687_2623281462087_1256733377_3124208_777515376_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-6734535215634416739</id><published>2011-11-30T07:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T07:59:01.472-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>The nagging Question in my mind</title><content type='html'>There is a haunting question that constantly rattles around in my head.  It's not a small thing that just pops up every so often.  At times it can become an obsession to me.  It is a somber melody that plays at the back of everything I do.  It plays when I rise in the morning and pray.  It sweeps into my days as I live and attempt to give thanks to God each day.  It plays when I meditate on His goodness and all that He has done for me and given me.  It become a roar as I read about struggle and lack and hardship for others all over the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Job 1:9-11&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-12879"&gt;9&lt;/sup&gt;Then Satan answered the LORD and said, "Does Job fear God for no reason? &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-12880"&gt;10&lt;/sup&gt;Have you not put&lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-12880A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%201:9-11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-12880A" title="See cross-reference A"&gt;A&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt; a hedge around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have&lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-12880B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%201:9-11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-12880B" title="See cross-reference B"&gt;B&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt; blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. &lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-12881"&gt;11&lt;/sup&gt;But&lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-12881C&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference C&amp;quot;&amp;gt;C&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%201:9-11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-12881C" title="See cross-reference C"&gt;C&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt; stretch out your hand and&lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-12881D&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference D&amp;quot;&amp;gt;D&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%201:9-11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-12881D" title="See cross-reference D"&gt;D&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt; touch all that he has, and he will&lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-12881E&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference E&amp;quot;&amp;gt;E&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%201:9-11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-12881E" title="See cross-reference E"&gt;E&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt; curse you&lt;sup class="xref" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-ESV-12881F&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference F&amp;quot;&amp;gt;F&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%201:9-11&amp;amp;version=ESV#cen-ESV-12881F" title="See cross-reference F"&gt;F&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/sup&gt; to your face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This passage is always at the back of my mind.  It is not b/c I am afraid that God will give me Job's treatment.  It isn't a question of justice or God's right to do such.  It isn't even about understanding why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is this thought.  Do I love and serve God because He has blessed me beyond measure?  Do I delight in His will and grace because in my life His will is easy and His grace is pleasant? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sooooooo&lt;/span&gt; blessed.  He has given me so much.  He took that broken, hateful, confused, lost little punk girl off the streets and over the last 19 years has dramatically changed me.  He has healed me of more than I will ever even really comprehend.  And far more than most of the people I know can begin to grasp.  He has untangled layer upon layer upon layer of lies, confusion, programming, fears, insecurity, self loathing, anger, hopelessness, abuse, addiction.  I could go on for the rest of the year and not run out of things that He has lovingly stripped me of and removed.  He has taken a high school drop out and given her a degree, several professional licenses and the opportunity to now become a nurse.  He took the fatherless, extended &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;family-less&lt;/span&gt; girl who felt like an orphan and given her an amazing family with her in-laws who who loves and accepts the small broken family that she has.  He gave me the love of the most amazing husband ever created.  He is kind, gentle, faithful, patient, committed, calm in the storm, and ever devoted to our family.  He took a broken womb which should have never been able to conceive and brought forth 3 beautiful, amazing children.  He has healed me so that I could mother them without continuing the cycle of abuse.  I have a house, a job, food, clothes.  I can read, and go to school and even be given money from the government so I can attend school.  I have never had to hold a child who is starving to death and wonder how I was going to feed it.  I don't have AIDS, hepatitis, TB or any of the other diseases that my drug addiction would very well have given me.  Nor do I have a child who is sick because  I gave them one of those diseases.  We have two cars, 3 sewing machines, 2 refrigerators, a microwave, an expensive bike, a stove to cook on, heat, hot running water, AC in the summer, I have legs, eyes, ears, lungs that work, a heart that beats, a brain that sends nerve signals down my spinal cord to all my extremities.  God made me creative and intelligent, driven and passionate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have made my point.  I am no where near finished.  I could keep going on and on and on.  But I think everyone gets it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been so good to me.  I am blessed beyond measure and every day the blessings are multiplied.  Every day He makes me more like Himself.  Everyday, He faithfully meets me in my bathtub, listens to my prayers, and speaks life, hope, and unspeakable delight and joy into my heart.  How could I not rejoice in His will and grace?  What choice do I have but to be overwhelmed and brought to me knees  before His grace and glory.  He loves me, protects me and fills me with Himself.  I contain all the riches of heaven.  He is everything I need and more than enough.  He is my greatest good, my highest joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to my question.  Do I love Him because of His goodness, blessing and protection?  What if everything I love was removed?  What if life became harder for me?  What if His grace became a hard grace as opposed to this beautiful grace I know that is blessing beyond all measure?  Would I still love Him?  Would I still serve Him with all of my being?  Would I still trust and delight in His will no matter what it looks like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is the grace I know cheap grace?  Grace is so easy to believe in and delight in when it is what you want and how you want and free of tests and trials.  What if grace suddenly became hard grace for me?  Would I still be hopelessly in love with Him?  Would I continue to rejoice in Him and attempt to shun evil? or, if the hedge was taken away and I lost it all, would I curse God to His face?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the haunting question always at the back of my mind.  It is a melody that ebbs and flows and moves through me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-6734535215634416739?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/6734535215634416739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/11/nagging-question-in-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6734535215634416739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6734535215634416739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/11/nagging-question-in-my-mind.html' title='The nagging Question in my mind'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-8926073968219056431</id><published>2011-11-02T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T13:33:08.233-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nursing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obedience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ethiopia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>Back in the saddle again</title><content type='html'>It's been about six months since I wrote on my blog.  It has been such a busy and crazy few months. I would like to start writing again and record this journey toward the goal God has put in my heart.  Then as I go to school to be a nurse practitioner and eventually work to provide medical care for the desperately poor in Ethiopia, this blog can serve as a place to deposit the lessons, thoughts, and hopes along to way.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to try and keep myself on track writing I am committing to myself to write at least one day a week, and to keep myself from saying I am too busy I will commit to set a timer for an hour one day a week and write then post what I wrote.     If I have other time to post then I can be free to post more, but this way at least one day a week I am committed to write and not use the excuse that I don't have time.  I can set aside at least an hour and guard that time as time that I have committed to share the journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For today, here is what has been rattling around in my heart.  It has been such a hard month for me due to overburdening myself with commitment.  Working  at Starbucks, Six Flags, and going to school have been more than I really thought it would be.  Going back to school has not been easy on me.  There have been times I have thought to myself, "what am I doing?"   The work hasn't been too bad; school comes pretty easy for me.  Statistics has been pretty challenging, but again not too bad.  What has been hard for me is losing free time to do the things I love.  I miss reading. I have traded reading  books that shape my soul and make me more like Jesus for books on Biology and Statistics.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love Biology and enjoy learning about it tremendously.  I just miss being able to read other books.  I miss having time to sit and journal my thoughts and meditate on the Word listening to what the Lord would say to me with no real pressure to hurry and cut it short; just enjoying the leisure of being with Him and my journal.  I really miss being able to be creative; I miss sewing and painting and the process of seeing an expression come to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like the pressure is always there that something needs to be done.  Sometimes I would like to go back to just going to work at Starbucks and coming home to do whatever I felt like doing that day (cleaning, cooking, creating, etc.).  Part of me thinks this is too hard; this a lot to undertake.  Life was so much simpler when I wasn't in school trying to become a nurse.  The thought of this pressure and limit on my time for the next 8 years makes me cringe somewhat.  This is a long journey I am on; this is a pressured and challenging journey I am on.  The rhythm of my life has changed dramatically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray and ask God to help me be faithful and glorify Him while I am on this journey.  I pray for His grace to carry me through.  I pray for His help to understand and learn the concepts.  I pray for Him to help me not get to focused on the end destination that I forget to make the most of the journey.  I pray and ask Him are you sure that this is what you want me to do?  Why not just go to Ethiopia and love the orphans now?  Why are you asking me to do this long process before I get to go?  You see I have no problem leaving everything I have here, moving my family and serving Him by serving them.  I would pack up tomorrow if He would say, "Go now."  The problem is that He has asked me to do this other thing first.  He has asked me to give up my free time and become a nurse, so I can do more than just love on them.  He has asked a little more of me.  He wants me on His terms, His way, not mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I have struggled and basically tread water for the last month, wondering what in the world possessed me to say yes, He sent me a reminder as to why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up early last Sunday morning before time to get ready for the day at Six Flags and decided to peruse the blogs I follow (another area that has suffered at the hands of school; I have not been able to keep up with the blogs I normally read faithfully- there are quite a few.).  I came across this one and God reminded me why He asked me to do this.  He helped me remember what this was all about.  If I was just trying to get a new career so I could make more money and we could live more comfortably, I don't think I would be able to keep going.  I think it would be easy to just stick to the status &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;quo&lt;/span&gt;. The way life was before He asked me to be a nurse and I said yes, was so much easier and so much less complicated.  Because, however, this is not about a new job and more money, giving up is not so easy and not really an option.  Because my Father gave me a brain that learns so easy and a drive that helps me go places that others might not want to push themselves to go and ordained for me to live in a country where school is an overabundant option, He in turn asks me to take all those privileges and gifts and use them to obey Him and say yes.  He sent me this blog to break my heart yet again and remind me that I am on this journey b/c there are children and mothers who desperately need for me to say yes and finish this part of the journey so I can give them medical so they can live, have health and become what He has called them to become.  That is the part of this beautiful tapestry of the Kingdom of God that He has asked me play.  Read the post below and maybe you can see where I am going and why; and maybe, just maybe, He will use it to ask you to play a part in this beautiful tapestry.  Your part may well be difficult too, but the rewards He is offering far outweigh the cost.&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);" class=" down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Link" class="gl_link" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com/2011/10/patricia.html"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com/2011/10/patricia.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-8926073968219056431?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/8926073968219056431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/11/back-in-saddle-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8926073968219056431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8926073968219056431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/11/back-in-saddle-again.html' title='Back in the saddle again'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3452726511610281572</id><published>2011-07-17T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T12:46:26.342-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suffering'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='donovan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>The Ugly Side of Grace</title><content type='html'>I haven't written in so long that I am not sure that anyone will even read this.  I have been writing a lot in my journal which I think has lead to me not blogging at all.  I need to find some kind of balance between the two, or I need to learn to pick out of the journal and blog about some of it.  Today, though, I need to pour out some junk.  I just feel like putting on the paper is not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a great deal of angst inside of me.  This angst has been rolling around in me for months, every since I found out that my brother had relapsed.  So, I have plugged &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Seether&lt;/span&gt; into my ears and I am going to type until I feel like I have let it all out.  I don't know how long it will be or what all I have to say.  Hopefully, there is a bigger reason for me to type this than just to purge it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little back ground.  My brother has battled a crack addiction for the last 10 years.  He has had good seasons and really bad seasons.  Things have gotten really dark at times and at other times things were going so good that we thought the dark seasons were over.  He ended up in jail a few years back which led to a long stretch of good with a couple minor relapses.  He had a really great couple of years.  There were some small rough spots, but the general direction was forward and up.  He had a really great job that he absolutely loved; he had unbelievable favor with the bosses.  He had his own apartment and was paying his bills, saving and giving a lot.  He had really built up a great library of books and bible study tools, and was studying and learning a lot.  He had even began to take responsibility for a lot of past mistakes, even making amends financially to people he had stolen from.  He was beginning to admit the truth about a long list of lies he had lived by.  During this last year we had really began to get close and be like a brother and sister instead of enemies.  I spoke to him almost daily on the phone.  He was at my house weekly.  We shared what we were studying and struggling with.  We had really moved into having a close relationship.  I wasn't distant or annoyed by him anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 2 and half months ago, things came unraveled.  They started to unravel slightly, but I just kept praying for him and believed that things were going to head back in the right direction.  To my horror things did not go back; they continued to unravel very quickly and deeply.  I had no idea that things were going to completely come unraveled.  I was totally caught off guard b/c I really thought that we had gotten far enough down the road of recovery and restoration that he wouldn't turn back.  The savings went, then the job went; slowly he sold all of his belongings off;  then the apartment went.  He stole from my mom out of my house; he totaled his girl's car; he was held captive and beaten by drug dealers.   He is now homeless and had lost everything.  He is sleeping in bus stations and behind grocery stores.  I even found a rehab for him, which he left after just a couple days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have gone through all kinds of different stages during the last couple months.  At first, I was just very angry.  I felt angry that he would choose this path again.  I felt totally shocked; I really can't understand why he went back to that.  I have been hopeful, believing that he would grab a hold of the sides of the pit and stop the descent.  I have been overwhelmed with fear that he would die.  I have grieved the loss of our close friendship and despaired that it would be once again close.  And I have cried and cried and cried.  This has hurt so much worse this time than it ever has before.  In the past, I could just write him off and feel nothing toward his stupid decisions.  We weren't close.  Now, I cannot do that.  My heart is ripped in half.  Sometimes, I walk around with a lump in my throat for days and it feels like the grief and fear are going to choke me.  Then someone strikes the right nerve and the tears come hard and deep and cleansing.  Sometimes I feel like my guts are hanging out dragging behind me.  I literally have a stomach ache b/c the grief is too much for me to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He showed up at my house yesterday.  My first gut response was anger.  I was angry that he was at my door like that and I knew that he had no where to go and would be asking for money.   I also knew that I couldn't let him in b/c then he wouldn't leave and would probably steal from my mother;  he always steals from her if given the chance (when he is on crack that is).  I didn't speak to him or go out.  I sent my husband out to deal with him.  I just felt angry and couldn't go talk to him.  I didn't realize until this morning that the anger was only a cover for what I was really feeling.  It is how I protect myself from the torrent that is really inside of me.  He ended up going to Starbucks where there are many people who know and love him.  They talked to him and fed him and did what they could for him.  As I pulled into my Starbucks this morning to get my coffee and saw those who had seen him the day before, the torrent was released.  I had seen a glimpse of him through the slit in the blinds that I looked through to see who was at the door.  I cannot get the image out of my mind.  My precious D, my beloved brother, emaciated, all his belongings on his back, defeated, overwhelmed, hot, tired, feeling completely alone and hopeless.  This morning, as I pulled up and saw my fellow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;barista&lt;/span&gt; and lover of D, the look on her face broke me.  The grief bubbled up out of me threatening to break into a tsunami totally out of control.  I choked in back, though. " I can't talk about him, right now," I said moving passed them.  I walked in to see my boss, also one who loves D fiercely;  the cracks in the dam holding back the flood began to leak; the tears began to spill, but with some control.  Then the next face, lover of D, approached knowing the my heart was broken and threatening to give way;  the sweet friend who had spent the day before at the Starbucks with D, feeding him, trying to reason with him.  As she hugged me, the dam broke; I gave way to the sobs and lost control.  My heart split open lying on the floor for all to see.  We had to walk out of the store b/c the dam had given way and control was no longer possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so sad and so confused.  Why go back?  Why won't you do something, Lord?  I know what you did for me.  I didn't want to quit drinking.  I told you that you were going to have to change my heart and make me want to stop- that I would keep drinking until you took it away.  And then one day, you took it.  One day, you made me want to be free and I took you hand; you have led me down this path of sobriety from alcohol for the last 2 years.  You have kept me from falling when I was tempted and given me the desire to let you change my heart.  It has nothing to do with me.  You did that for me, Lord.  Why won't you do that for D?  Why won't you take it away and make him want you more than he wants the crack.  When will it end?  Surely, you won't let him die this way.  I have cried and prayed and cried some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you are good, Lord.  I know you love him immeasurable more than I could ever love him.  I know that you are in control of the universe and that you have a plan.  I know that none of this is a surprise to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grace looks so pretty in my life.  It is an easy thing for me to hold to your sovereignty and delight in your grace.  Trusting you is easy for me, b/c my life has been far more blessed than I ever imagined it could be.  You have poured grace upon grace upon grace in my life.  I have not suffered loss.  My children are healthy and well adjusted.  My husband adores me and provides for me.  My house has electricity and running water.  We have two cars and far more food than we can eat in our house.   Grace is easy for me.  Being thankful is easy for me.  But what about grace in the lives of others?  What about mothers who have to bury their children or care for desperately ill ones?  What about the widows who don't have food to eat?  What about D?  I don't like the way grace is packaged for him.  I don't see beautiful grace in his life.  I see devastation and suffering.  I see a hurt, hopeless little boy who grew up without a dad and just wants someone to show him how to be a man, to hug him and tell him that he is loved and that they believe in him.  Forgive me, Lord; I don't see it.  I don't like it.  I am eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, labeling things with no true knowledge of the whole picture.  I know that I see such a limited view and you see the whole thing beginning to end.  I want to stand in the place of creator and judge deciding what is grace and what is not grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses from Katie says it so much better, this idea of eating from the tree.  Read about it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-am-so-old.html"&gt;http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-am-so-old.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have grieved and struggled and all I know to do is to keep preaching the gospel truth to my self.  We serve a loving God who knows all and can only give grace to us.  We don't always like the package that grace comes in, but it is always a gift from God and it is good.  He loves D and knew this was coming; it did not catch him by surprise.  He knows how this all ends as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He used Elizabeth Elliot to say to me, "When it's finished, you'll see."  We can't see the whole picture so we don't understand, but when it's finished, we will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was singing in church this morning,  "Savior, He can move the mountains, our God is mighty to save, mighty to save.  Forever, author of salvation, He rose and conquered the grave, Jesus conquered the grave."  As I sang, I heard Him, gently say to me, "I am writing his story.  I am still writing his story."  So no matter how the grace is packaged and no matter how much I dislike what it looks like.  It is not my story to write.  I am not writing this story.  God is writing D's story.  God is writing the story of Jesus in D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somehow, in His amazing faithfulness and providence, God is sanctifying me and changing me to make me more like Jesus through D's struggle and my struggle to walk through it.  My loving Father is writing my story and D's story and weaving it together into a beautiful tapestry of grace.  I can't see it with my eyes, but I choose to see it with my faith.  The grief and pain are signs that He is healing me and causing me to be able to feel.  The pain is a sign of life and growth and love.  Being open to love means being open to pain and somehow that is also beautiful and it is grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 18th, 2011&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little addition thanks to my great friend Sean who encouraged me by pointing out grace in my brother's life right now via text message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Grace is that, unlike several other addicts, he falls in direct sight of a Christian community that loves him. Grace is that he knows people that pray for him.  Grace is that he is alive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What comfort from a brother in Christ.  It was just what I needed.  Straight from the mouth of God to my ear through the mouth of a beloved brother- answer to the questions I prayed aloud in my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;Update : Dec 26th.  God has moved in D's life.  He has 4 months sober, a job, and lives at the 24 hour AA club downtown.  He is on the mend, moving forward, pressing into God.  He spent the first overnight at our house since the unraveling on Christmas Eve.  Our relationship is on the mend. God is healing and showing us how His grace was and is woven into the whole situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3452726511610281572?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3452726511610281572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/07/ugly-side-of-grace.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3452726511610281572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3452726511610281572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/07/ugly-side-of-grace.html' title='The Ugly Side of Grace'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-1334150363297794198</id><published>2011-04-09T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T11:59:15.682-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brokenness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>Just a little something...</title><content type='html'>This is something I wrote one day after wrestling in prayer over the things that break my heart and cause me to shutter and sometimes cry; in the midst of those times of wrestling, I sometimes doubt that my prayers even make a difference.  Sometimes, I don't even know how to pray and I just say, "Lord, please do something. I don't know how to pray, but you do. Please turn my petitions into something that is meaningful and makes a difference."  Then I am reminded of Romans 8:26&lt;br /&gt;If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our  praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our  aching groans.  (Message translation).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful God, I love you&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful God, I trust you&lt;br /&gt;Then I find myself asking&lt;br /&gt;"What can we do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can we just sit&lt;br /&gt;Idly by doing nothing&lt;br /&gt;But what can we do&lt;br /&gt;O Lord, have mercy&lt;br /&gt;O Lord, do something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you have been so good to me&lt;br /&gt;You have dealt so bountifully with me&lt;br /&gt;But how can my soul return to rest&lt;br /&gt;When there is so much suffering&lt;br /&gt;When children are hungry&lt;br /&gt;When mothers are grieving&lt;br /&gt;When war and famine wreak destruction&lt;br /&gt;When restless masses have no where to call home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to trust you&lt;br /&gt;But when, O Lord,&lt;br /&gt;When we will the oppressed go free&lt;br /&gt;When will children have parents&lt;br /&gt;When will the hungry be fed&lt;br /&gt;When will the broken know healing&lt;br /&gt;When will we love and care and give and hear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-1334150363297794198?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/1334150363297794198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/04/just-little-something.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1334150363297794198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1334150363297794198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/04/just-little-something.html' title='Just a little something...'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-9124337551959835940</id><published>2011-03-25T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T05:17:43.728-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holy Spirit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recovery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>Confession time</title><content type='html'>I have never thought that I could be addicted to pain pills.  I am not saying that I judge those who are or have been addicted to them.  I am an addict of a different kind.  I am an alcoholic and and a speed freak.  That is why I have never really been able to see myself with a pain pill problem.  When I have surgery or some reason to need them, I get the prescription filled, take what I need and them leave the remainder in a bottle somewhere in my house.  I just don't like the way they make me feel.  I have spent so much of my life feeling tired and groggy that I don't like that feeling that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vicodin&lt;/span&gt; gives me... usually.  I like to feel speedy and get lots of things done.  Most of the people who know me know that I hate to sleep and resent the fact that I am required to eat or sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I had major dental work done on Tuesday.  I was in a lot of pain; I took my pills and went to sleep.  I got up and took some ibuprofen the next morning.  After being awake a couple hours I took a pain pill and went to work.  This is the first time I have had to take pain pills and work.  Usually I take them and go to sleep; by the time I have to function normally, I am usually done taking them.  In order to combat the grogginess I drank one of my extra stout white mocha drinks.  When the ibuprofen wore off and the pain started again, I took another pain pill (not realizing that really the ibuprofen is what made the pain stop).  It was at that point I started to feel really good.  It was somewhat reminiscent of my speed ball days (heroin and cocaine together), only not quite as intense.  I was so relaxed, but wired from the coffee.  Wow!!! I thought.  I came home and later made the connection that is was the ibuprofen actually made my mouth stop hurting.  It seems to me the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;vicodin&lt;/span&gt; doesn't take the pain away; it just makes you not care about it.   The ibuprofen actually eased the discomfort.  That night (Wednesday)I told myself that I didn't need to take anymore of those pills; I just needed to take my ibuprofen.  The problem was when I got up Thursday I wanted to take the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;vicodin&lt;/span&gt; even though I had taken ibuprofen and knew it would take away the discomfort.  I wanted to take a couple and go drink coffee so I could feel relaxed and wired at the same time.  "Alarms starting going off all over my head."  I am so grateful for the grace of God that sent the Holy Spirit to live inside of me and lead me and speak to me.  I am so grateful for the grace of God that gives me a willing heart to hear His voice and deep desire to obey and fear losing the walk He has given me each day.  I now see how easy it would be for me to fall into that addiction.  I gave the pills to my husband and asked him to hide them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful for the glimpse into how susceptible I still am to falling into a new addiction and now much my flesh still yearns for an escape.  I am so grateful that God is bigger than my addictive personality and that He loves me enough to warn me and give me the ability to catch it before it gets out of hand.  I am grateful that its okay to be tempted and to struggle; and I am grateful that He allows me this platform to share and hopefully impact others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-9124337551959835940?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/9124337551959835940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/03/confession-time.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9124337551959835940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9124337551959835940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/03/confession-time.html' title='Confession time'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-34989768133219772</id><published>2011-03-21T04:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T06:06:29.756-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='restoration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='embracing hope for ethiopia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='artist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>My Lenten  Journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N2qGZbHyIyw/TYdLOdvYw_I/AAAAAAAAACs/Llw4wmncs_Q/s1600/tangled%2Bmess%2Bpic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N2qGZbHyIyw/TYdLOdvYw_I/AAAAAAAAACs/Llw4wmncs_Q/s320/tangled%2Bmess%2Bpic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586516574650024946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year is the first year I have observed Lent.  I have not really been in a church that observed it, nor have I even been taught anything about it.  This year our church began following the Liturgical Calendar and observing the rhythms and days of the calendar.  I have been so amazed at the focus and direction it has given my walk to think in terms of the seasons of remembrance in our faith as a opposed to just passing the days and months of the year.  When we started this journey, our pastor, Mark taught a class on the Liturgical calendar, the meaning of the days, and what is significant about walking this calendar.  I loved the idea of walking through the seasons of the life of Christ and how that can and will shape us into His image if we will allow.  I love the idea that each year we can revisit remembering and re-walk the path, and as we revisit each year we will be changed and have a deeper understanding of who He is and how He walked.  We will, in turn, have a deeper understanding of who we are in Him and be daily formed by Him into His likeness.  I have been so excited to walk this path and have been so amazed at what He is doing in me as I seek to be in tune with the seasons and what He wants to teach me in all of them.  The other part of this new journey I really enjoy is reading each day from the &lt;a href="http://www.crivoice.org/lent1.html"&gt;Book of Common Prayer&lt;/a&gt;.  It really amazes me to think on the idea that brothers and sisters all over the world are reading the same verses and listening to what our Father has to say about them each day.  There is something big, and grand and beautiful to me about  the church of Christ unified in readings that cross ethnic, denominational, economic, and national boundaries.  I have been so blessed to be able to discuss with my husband and other members in our church what we are reading and what He is teaching each of us as we read.  It has been such a surprise how much I have enjoyed implementing these two practices into my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So onto Lent.  As we were   following the Church calendar and preparing , I had prayed for weeks about what the Lord wanted Lent to look like in my life this year. Observing Lent was a new idea and our pastor was so good to post links to sites we could read and research to understand what this journey of Lent is about and how people historically have observed it and people who are accustomed to observing Lent are doing so now.  I began to seek the Lord and ask Him what He wanted me to do or give up.  What I felt impressed to do was surprising and seemed pretty unorthodox. But, as I continued to press and seek Him, I continued to feel the same impression.  What I felt I was to do was really press into finding the creative artist He created me to be.  I felt Him tell me to bath it in prayer and be faithful to take time each day to express creativity or write something.  I felt like He said we were going to walk through the darkness and shadows the have buried "the artist" in me, and deal with that fear, the insecurity, the doubt, the paralysis that sometimes keeps me from even feeling like I can try.  I began to work through a book by Janice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Elsheimer&lt;/span&gt;  called &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Creative-Call-Artists-Response-Writers/dp/0877881383"&gt;The Creative Call.&lt;/a&gt; I am also taking an online creative&lt;a href="http://http//frecklednest.blogspot.com/2010/02/indie-business-online-class-details.html"&gt; Indie business&lt;/a&gt; class.  I felt like He told me if I would  work on these and seek Him everyday, we would walk through the shadows and doubt resulting in Him resurrecting "the artist" at the end of the journey on Easter.  So I have undertaken His call to really push into who He made me to be and all that stands in the way of that.  There have been times when I just felt like giving up in the last week.  I hear the old familiar voice in my head telling me that "this is stupid", "who am I to think I am an artist", "I am not really an artist".  Then I would hear Him whisper to me "don't give up, press in, how are you going to inspire the people I want you to inspire if you give up and don't find your freedom?"  So I press on.  I am supposed to write every day for my assignments in The Creative Call and I have failed many days to make time to do that, but I can and will keep pressing and seek to do better.  I spent hours yesterday writing in my journal as I sat on the back porch in the sun.  It was amazing.  It was so amazing that it may be easier for me to consistently make and guard that space to write.  I read His word and just wrote my heart out.  It was liberating and beautiful.  I also made a piece of art that He inspired me to make; I trusted Him and worked on it and finished it yesterday.  And, I actually like it.  The picture above is what I created yesterday.  It was such a great day.  I feel so free and inspired and motivated to keep pressing on.  I see the progress and growth He is doing in me and I am so excited to keep going and see who I am in a few weeks after completing my commitment to undertake this journey and be disciplined about making space to do what I actually have such a deep desire to do anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning as I sat quietly before the Father resting and waiting to hear what He wanted to say to me, He showed me a beautiful and heartbreaking picture.  I began to weep.  He showed me that I buried my true self; the beautiful artist, the truest part of who I am.  I buried her a long, long time ago b/c I wanted her to be safe.  I put her away in a box buried in corner in the basement of my soul.  She is the most beautiful, purest part of me.  She has been buried and covered over with so many layers so that none of the pain, abuse and tragedy could get to her.  I needed to protect her b/c it was not safe for her when I was growing up.  Now, though, it is her hour; it is time for the me He intended when he thought me up to come forth.  My Father is digging her up out of the dirt and introducing me to the beautiful artist that I have kept safely tucked away for so many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad that my Father challenged me to take this journey for Lent and that He gave me the courage to accept the challenge.  What a beautiful dimension and sense of adventure I feel as I learn to let the Creator teach me to develop and cultivate the creator He has created, called and equipped me to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-34989768133219772?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/34989768133219772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-lenten-journey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/34989768133219772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/34989768133219772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-lenten-journey.html' title='My Lenten  Journey'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N2qGZbHyIyw/TYdLOdvYw_I/AAAAAAAAACs/Llw4wmncs_Q/s72-c/tangled%2Bmess%2Bpic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3471218728980867295</id><published>2011-03-15T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T17:54:28.309-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='embracing hope for ethiopia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ethiopia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drawn from Water'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><title type='text'>We are going the Ethiopia</title><content type='html'>I have been intending to write this post for a couple weeks now and I  just keep running out of time before I can sit down and write it.  This  post probably won't be nearly as thorough as I would like for it to be,  but it will be a start and I can expand on it later.  I have felt like I  was going to go visit Ethiopia for a couple years now.  Every since I  first saw a video about the orphanage Drawn from Water.  I was overcome with compassion and the desire to go and serve was birthed in my heart.  Here is the video just in case you haven't gotten to see it.  Please watch it.  If these families can pack up and move to another country to love and serve then we can at least watch a video about the work they are doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/eggHIAwX_K4?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since seeing the video the first time, two years ago, God was done so much in my heart and life.  I was introduced to the Embracing Hope for Ethiopia blog through following Drawn from Water.  The main thing I feel like we are supposed to do this summer in Ethiopia is to give our time to Embracing Hope for Ethiopia and the work they are doing in Korah.  We are going to love the overlooked and forgotten people of Korah.  I believe so passionately in what the Shannon Family is going among the people of Korah in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  I don't know for sure what the Lord has in mind for us and our connection with Embracing Hope for Ethiopia in the long run.  He will continue to reveal His purposes and details as we need to know them.  For now, we are trying to spread the word about what they are doing and ask people to sponsor families to be enrolled in the program they are organizing and implementing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have never been on a mission trip, nor had we even thought about doing it until recently.  I don't even know how it is going to happen.  Honestly, part of me thinks I am crazy for putting this into print b/c I have doubt in my heart that the money to get there will come in.  I mean, I know that when God calls He provides.  I really only halfway believe that He will provide for us to get there.  I know that He put it in my heart and has begun to put it in Larry's heart.  I am so glad that His call, His provision, His grace are not dependent on me having some kind of super faith because I do ask Him for what I need and what I want, but I don't always believe that He will bring it to me.  My faith continues to grow as I see Him come through for us over and over, but I do realize that any faith I have He gives me anyway.  I am definitely not of the hyperfaith camp.  He is so faithful and good to me and I know it is b/c He chooses to be good and faithful not b/c I have some great faith.  He is faithful to me in spite of my doubt and fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scripture that has been rolling around inside me for that last couple weeks and has given me great comfort and brought me to tears more than once is Psalm 116:7  "Return to rest, O my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you."  He has been so good to me; He has blessed me so far beyond measure; in spite of my struggles, doubt and fear, He has given me more than I could enumerate were I to speak every minute of every day for the next year.  I am sure that just the ways He has blessed me that I am unaware of would take up that much time or more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My intention for this season of my blog is to use it to talk about the two ministries we will be serving while in Ethiopia (Drawn from Water and Embracing Hope for Ethiopia), to talk about the people of Korah, and to chronicle the work God does in us as we prepare to take this trip.  Please pray for us as we step out to answer the call to go.  Please pray for Drawn From Water and Embracing Hope for Ethiopia as they care for the widow, orphan and needy in Ethiopia.  Pray for God to prepare and make way for what He wants to do while we are there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a video about Korah and the people who live there.  Please watch it. So you can see why we are going and pray for us and the people of Korah village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/f4pgQvgdNqs" frameborder="0" height="510" width="853"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3471218728980867295?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3471218728980867295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/03/we-are-going-ethiopia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3471218728980867295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3471218728980867295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/03/we-are-going-ethiopia.html' title='We are going the Ethiopia'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/eggHIAwX_K4/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-6843597746846261100</id><published>2011-02-18T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T16:59:34.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why am I at Starbucks?</title><content type='html'>If you asked me that question I would probably give you the standard answer I give to most people.  I came to work at Starbucks so I could have benefits and only have to work part time b/c I had a breast lump and needed to make sure I did not have cancer.  Then I stayed b/c I ended up needing surgery after breast cancer was ruled out.  After that I stayed through the holidays as a thanks for my boss letting me keep my job after I had given notice and needed to stay on longer.  Now I am there b/c it's not so bad.  I love my job most days; I don't have to work full time and it helps pay bills.  I have a really nice rhythm to my life; I have a job, but it doesn't really encroach on the things I like to do and the rhythm I like to keep.  I don't see myself leaving any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when I ask God why I am at Starbucks He has a different answer which if you probe deep enough and ask really wanting an answer I will share with you as well.  It is that answer that I want to blog about.  I have to say that the answer to that question has changed as the months have turned into a year and as God continues to peal back layers of the onion that is me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first went to work at Starbucks it was about killing my pride and my ego as well as the "image" I worked so hard to become and keep.  It was a very humbling thing for me to take the job at Starbucks.  I don't say that to convey that I am better than anyone else or that it is a lesser job b/c it is not.  There are no "just jobs".  There are places God sends us and asks us to be faithful.  We are the ones who minimize it and make it less than it is.  Where ever God sends us; it is a solemn call and beautiful opportunity to love and worship Him by doing "whatever we do as unto Him, with all our hearts";  it is a beautiful opportunity to love and serve the people we encounter.  I can just give out coffee to people reluctantly and with no heart, or I can lovingly furnish people with a warm beverage with love and blessing in my heart intentionally connecting with them and using my passion to impact them and make their day better b/c they crossed my path.  I can serve the Master of the Universe and creator of coffee by serving the people He created with grace and humility.  So anyway, it is not just a job and it is absolutely not a job to be ashamed of.   I am not better than anyone else, but God sure did expose that I thought I was too good for "Starbucks" and therefore I thought I was better than at least people who worked at Starbucks.  I actually think I am better than a lot of people.  That is something I admit now with shame in my heart.  What a horrible and ungracious thing to feel.  But the best way I can be faithful to God is to expose my weakness and His grace in spite of that.  Hiding our struggles will never lead to freedom.  I can be grateful that I even recognize it and realize that it is ugly instead of justifying myself or denying that it is really how I feel making me a "white washed sepulcher". When I expose it I can be filled with grace instead of death.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that God has moved me on from that and had so much of my "image" and ego really trampled on, there are deeper things being worked on through my job.  The reason why I work at Starbucks right now in this season is to put into practice all that God is doing in my life.  I am getting to work out daily the implications and daily practice of the beautiful things God is showing me and the amazing desires that He is stirring in my heart.  If we cut down to the deepest yearnings in my heart beyond all the surface and really unimportant things, the thing I pray about the most and long for more than anything else is to be like Jesus.  I really want to be like Him in every way.  I know that there is much teaching in this day and age that we can't be like Him that He is perfect and we can't be perfect, "if we could be perfect, we wouldn't need Him".  While there is a  thread of truth in that statement, we use it as an excuse to not seek to be more like Him.  We can't with any effort of our own become like Him no matter how hard we try, no matter how good we try to be or what rules we try to follow.  We cannot in ourselves become like Him.  But He can renovate and change us into His image.  As we seek Him and love Him and spend time with Him, we will be changed into His image and become more like Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Romans 8:29 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;image&lt;/span&gt; of His&lt;br /&gt;Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;II Cor 3:18&lt;/span&gt; But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord are being transformed into the same &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;image &lt;/span&gt;from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Col 3:9-11&lt;/span&gt; Do not lie to one another, since you have put off the old man with his deeds, and have put on the new man who is renewed in knowledge according the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;image&lt;/span&gt; of Him who created him, where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcised nor uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave nor free, but Christ is all and in all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we are not becoming more like Him each year we walk with Him, the question must be asked ," Are we really walking with Him or are we just putting on the pretense of walking with Him?"  "With man this is impossible, but with God everything is possible."  The call of every Christian to to do the work of the Kingdom; it is to bring the Kingdom of God to earth as it is in Heaven.  We are called to be apprentices of Christ Jesus.  He is to be our King and Lord.  We are called to take up our cross and follow him...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt 10:38 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;And he who does not take up his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Matt 16:24&lt;/span&gt; Then Jesus said to His disciples, "If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mark 8:34 &lt;/span&gt;When He had called the people to Himself, with His disciples also, He said to them, " Whoever desires to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mark 10:21&lt;/span&gt; then Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, "One thing you lack:Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Luke 9:23&lt;/span&gt; Then He said to them all, "If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cross is such a common thing for us it causes us to miss what He was really saying here.  We see the cross from the context of our present age and culture.  It is a religious relic, a reminder of what Jesus did for us.  We need to take off our cultural glasses to really get what He was saying here.  The people He was speaking to did not see the cross the way we do.  He had not died on it, yet.  I was not a picture of salvation.  The cross was a Roman implement of death by torture.  It was a symbol of high treason.  So with that in mind think about what He was really saying to them.  He wasn't saying, "Hey, take up your symbol of salvation and follow me."  He was saying, "Hey, take up your implements of death by torture and follow me.  Give up your life; die to all that you have been living for; lay it all down and follow me and suffer with me."  Now it looks a bit different when you stop and see it that way, huh?&lt;br /&gt;Salvation is not about "us".  We are called out of darkness to shine His light in the darkness.  We are called to obey and follow Him.  When we make it about our "personal salvation" and not a part of an amazing enormous beautiful plan that began before we ever where, then we miss the point.  The call to us is summed up by this quote from &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dietrich Bonhoeffer &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die."   &lt;/span&gt;We are called to give up our lives, our ambitions, our wills, our resources, our time, our dreams; we are called to lay our lives before the King and say, "As you will my Lord."  We are so blessed and fortunate in this country; we have so much; it is not costly to be associated with the name of Christ.  That blessing is also what keeps us from taking the call seriously.  It doesn't cost us, so we treat the things of God very flippantly.  For so many years I was not very concerned about the lost; I didn't really give much thought to people who were suffering and dying; the desperately poor were not my concern.  "Me and Jesus were okay and that's all that mattered."  When salvation is about where you go when you die, then it is a personal thing between you and Him.  Everyone else is responsible for what happens to them in the end.  If they don't know Him that is there problem.  Their suffering is not my problem.  When God began to show me that salvation was not about me, but was about something so much bigger I couldn't continue to make it about me and Him and not care about anyone else.  Being a follower of Christ is not about where I am going to go when I die.  It is about the part I am to play in this beautiful story God is telling.  It's about me taking the Kingdom to the hurting, the lost, the broken.  It is about becoming more like Him and caring about the things God cares about.  The church is God's plan to bring the Kingdom of God to earth, God's plan to love and care for the poor and needy, the widows and orphans.  The church is God's plan and there is not plan B.  We are to show the broken and desperate world a new way.  We are the light.  We are to show love and forgiveness, humility and service.  We are not supposed to ask God to step into our plans, we are supposed to step into His plans.  The question must be asked, " what has God blessed us with so much for?"  Has He given us so much so we can accumulate stuff and live well beyond comfortably while most of the world goes without the basic necessities of life?  While we go to parks that consume millions of gallons of water, 2,500 children die from lack of water every day, in Africa nearly 1 billion people do not have access to clean drinking water.  While Americans spend $18 billion just on coffee per year,   1 child dies every 5 seconds from lack of food.  Can we, Christian, really be okay with this.  Or do we need to rethink some priorities.  Are we called, as followers of Christ, to continue accumulating stuff we don't need while so many are suffering and dying?  It is so easy to ignore b/c these people are so far from us.  Is this what denying ourselves looks like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a little bit of a rabbit trail, but important none-the-less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can be changed into the image of Christ.  Not only can we, but we are called to be changed.  So I am consumed with learning to die to myself and love as He loved.  To love unconditionally passionately and completely.  I desire to learn to serve all and make my desire and plans last.  I long to take interruptions and rerouting of my plans with grace and humility and not with irritation and self important arrogance.  As I seek this and pray about it, God exposes every day to me how far from that place I am.  Currently, that is why I work at Starbucks.  As the high maintenance and sometimes difficult people come into my life each day, it exposes the lack of Christ like love in my life.  I am at Starbucks to be made aware of all the ugliness that still lives in me.   We are called to love. No matter what others do to us, we are called to love them.  Read the sermon on the mount. ( Matthew 5)  Pay attention especially to Matt 5:43-48&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-NKJV-23274"&gt;43&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; “You have heard that it was said, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; ‘You shall love your neighbor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NKJV-23274g%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; and hate your enemy.’ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-NKJV-23275"&gt;44&lt;/sup&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good  to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and  persecute you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NKJV-23275h%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;"&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-NKJV-23276"&gt;45&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun  rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the  unjust. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-NKJV-23277"&gt;46&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-NKJV-23278"&gt;47&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And if you greet your brethren&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NKJV-23278i%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;"&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; only, what do you do more &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;than others?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Do not even the tax collectors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="footnote" value="" href="%22#fen-NKJV-23278j%22" title="&amp;quot;See"&gt;"&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; do so? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-weight: bold;" class="versenum" id="en-NKJV-23279"&gt;48&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is never an excuse for being unloving.  And since God knows the intents of our hearts and every thought and feeling, then it isn't just about treating them well; it is about how we feel and what we think about them.  It is not easy; as a matter of fact it is impossible to do on our own.  Only Christ living in us, ruling and remaking us, makes it possible.  Then there is not ego or boasting in ourselves b/c we didn't and can't ever do it.  To God, then goes the glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amazing thing about it is that, as I encounter these individuals  each day, when I begin the feel the negative unloving thoughts and  emotions rise, I feel badly.  I recognize that I am not acting as Christ  would therefore it exposes the ways that I have not yet been remade in  His image.  Before I not only would not  have recognized that I was  being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;unchristlike&lt;/span&gt;,  but I would have felt justified in feeling negatively and even  verbalizing the negativity to others.   I now find myself grieved as  soon as I see it rise up and begin to repent and ask the Lord to help me  feel grace and compassion toward the person. By that I know  I am making progress, and by that I know  I have so far to go.  I long for the day that grace and love are an automatic response not one that I have talk myself into.  For the time being, God has graciously put me in the position to be able to practice and have my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unchristlikenesss&lt;/span&gt; exposed to me daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup class="versenum" id="en-NKJV-23452"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-6843597746846261100?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/6843597746846261100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/02/why-am-i-at-starbucks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6843597746846261100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6843597746846261100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/02/why-am-i-at-starbucks.html' title='Why am I at Starbucks?'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-1771125021728609499</id><published>2011-01-23T13:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T14:20:34.059-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cycling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>More Bicycle Messages</title><content type='html'>You know I had a thought that I was going to write more bicycle metaphors and maybe people might get tired of my bicycle metaphors; then I remembered that I started writing this blog to process through things that happen in my life and to talk about what God shows me.  It just happens that people read what I write, but the readers are really not the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just went for a bike ride and let me tell you it is colder than I thought it was, especially with shorts on.  Before I left, I asked God to speak to me and give me a heart to hear the message He wanted to give me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that God can speak to us all throughout the day in all that we do if we are open to hear what he wants to say to us.  If we are looking and listening, He is speaking all the time.  He may use a person, a sign, a song, nature, a thought we have about something.  He speaks in all sorts of ways and all the time; our job is just to be open to hear what He has to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I left with the intention of riding and listening.  The first of the ride was pretty difficult.  As I said, I really didn't know it was as cold as it was when I took off.  I was going on the assumption that it was comparable to yesterday when I went and rode.  It was beautiful on my ride yesterday.  Today, on the other hand, it was 46 degrees.  The wind was blowing against me which makes the ride difficult in several ways.  The wind is built in resistance plus as the gust come up on me they are so, so, so cold, biting cold.  So as I rode I was asking hey what do you want to say to me.  I did take the opportunity to think about people that don't have a warm home to go to.  As cold as I was, I knew that I would be returning to me home where I would take a scalding hot bath.  So I tried to think about people who don't have that and feel some compassion for them.  I have been homeless.  I spent time in Missouri homeless in the winter.  I ended up spending several days on the side of the highway in the snow with my toes frozen to my socks.  The only reprieve was sneaking into the truck stop until we would get kicked out again.  No one would pick us up.  It was miserable.  I definitely feel for people who are homeless in the cold.  However, I don't think I feel enough compassion or I would do more to help people in that situation.  Sometimes its easy to be grateful for what I have and take it for granted so that I don't reach out to others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a little bit of a rabbit trail.  So, I was struggling with my ride, wondering if I had lost my mind when I went out on my bike in the cold.  I was peddling and asking what do you want to say to me out here in this cold.  There is something about riding my bike that is like a release from everything going on.  I feel like I am flying; its a break from everything.  My mind gets really quiet; I talk to Jesus and listen.  No message, nothing really but struggle and freezing cold.  I reminded myself that as much as the wind was blowing against me the chances were I would have a really great tale wind going home.  I got to the end of the trail and turned around.  Sure enough, the tail wind came up behind me and blew.  And as it blew I flew.  There is really nothing else like the feeling of riding with the wind behind you; it is literally like flying to me.  I was so excited; I had to stupidest grin on my face.  Though I had the wind at my back, I was not coasting with the wind either.  I peddled as hard as I could with the wind helping me along.  That equated to really flying.  Then the message came.  Hey, you see what happens when you put all that you have into it and I add the wind; you can go so much faster.  The wind could have blown me home and made my effort to go along be much less.  But with the wind at my back and all my effort combined, I made such faster progress.  God gave me the muscles to peddle and helped me train them so they are strong, but when He added the wind the increase was exponential.  Just like He gave me a lot of gifts and talents.  The word says that "the gifts and callings of God are without repentance".  He gives good gifts to us all.  He doesn't just give gifts to those who would believe.  He endows all if His created with gifts.  However, when we walk with Him and love him, when we abide in Him and realize that He abides in us, then our gifts are combines with His Spirit.  That puts us on a totally different playing field.  Our talents with His Spirit makes an out of this world combination.  I grinned like some kind of cracked out fool peddling my legs off.  I must have been some kind of sight.  I guess it doesn't take much to make me a happy grinning person.  It was fun.  Thanks Jesus; You're the bomb!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-1771125021728609499?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/1771125021728609499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/01/more-bicycle-messages.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1771125021728609499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1771125021728609499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/01/more-bicycle-messages.html' title='More Bicycle Messages'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-9086323355241171094</id><published>2011-01-02T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T14:22:45.712-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='five for 50'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Biblical Christianity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='world vision'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='called'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drawn from Water'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apprentices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='AIDS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discipleship'/><title type='text'>Thoughts on New Years</title><content type='html'>First of all, let me apologize ahead of time to the people who don't like my heavy posts.  This is not a jolly New Years resolution type of posts.  I am feeling pretty heavy about some things.  But Matthew 5:4 says "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."  I feel overwhelmed with the the tremendous need in the world and the apathetic, complacent, paralyzed state that much of the western world seems to be in.  The same state that I have spend most of my life in.  We have so so so much in this country and we consume so much of it on our lusts.  Many people don't really know about so much of the need.  Others don't want to hear it.  For whatever reason, God made me a pretty serious, very literal and concrete person.  I would rather watch a documentary that informs me about me injustice or need than watch something that will entertain me or make me laugh.  I would rather read a book that convicts me than read some fictional tale.  I am not saying that either of the other two options are wrong or that I am better b/c of my preferences.  It is just how I am.  I am full of so much information about really terrible injustices in the world.   I find small talk to be so frustrating.  I go to parties and gathering and listen to the talk.  I don't follow it; I don't find it interesting.  I want to turn the conversation to things that really matter.  I want get people to think about how many people are dying while we sit and chat about frivolities.  I want to pray or talk about the word of God.  My husband jokingly told me the other day, "You can bring a room down like no one else I know.  Dawn's party &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pooper&lt;/span&gt; service."  Don't get him wrong; he wasn't being mean.  He was just talking about how I really prefer to talk about really heavy issues.  I want to tell people about things they don't know.  I am sorry if it makes people sad.  Good!! Maybe it will make people sad enough to step out of apathy and do something.  We can effect change one little step; one person at a time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure these thoughts are even coming across very cohesively.  I hope I am conveying what I am trying to convey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my blog may need to take a directional turn.  I understand that people may not want to read about some of the subjects I want to write about, but I need to try and get the message out.  I have been reading some books that are really rocking my world.  I just finished "The Red Letters: Living a faith that bleeds" is about the AIDS crisis and how our response to it has been pretty minimal.  Now I am reading "Radical"; it is really rocking my world.  Anyone who really knows me knows I read pretty voraciously and they are not usually upbeat type books.  These have really spoken to me and come at a time where I am really doing a lot of soul searching anyway.  I feel like we need to wake up.  God's people need to hear the cries of the oppressed, the orphans, the widows, and the slaves.  There are movements and people that are making many moves toward changing things.  But we have so much progress to make still.  I feel like Dorothy; the curtain has been pulled up on the wizard; he is a lie.  I want to pull the curtain up to show everyone the American dream is a lie that we have bought into.  It's like the matrix.  All this stuff serves to distract us from the fact the we aren't really living at all.  We are missing the point.  We are not living out the gospel.  We are not seeking first the Kingdom and His righteousness.  The Gospel and the American Dream are diametrically opposed to one another.  If we continue to try to reshape the Gospel into our version of gospel we will hear "depart from me, for I never knew you" at the end of time.  We are building structures that will not make it through the test of fire.  We are building huge alters worshiping the temporal.  The Gospel is not about going to heaven when we die; it's about living the kingdom now.  It's about giving everything we have to Him to do with as He pleases.  It's about loving, and loving and loving so much it hurts and makes us look like fools.  It's not about being Second; it's about being last.  Putting everyone else ahead of ourselves.  It's about not worrying about whether someone might take advantage of us or if they deserve our love or help, b/c we don't deserve anything we have.  Everything we have has been given to us and we don't deserve ANY of it.  That is not an easy Gospel.  It is not a pleasant Gospel, but it is the Gospel none the less.  I personally don't live out  that Gospel everyday, but I am searching and seeking freedom to live that way.  I struggle and fail over and over again, but I am seeking Him b/c I want to love like He loves.  He has been gracious enough to open my eyes and cause me to begin to ask questions about what we have accepted as okay and our culture.  It is not okay.  I will not keep quiet about it any more.  I will answer to call to be the party &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pooper&lt;/span&gt;.  I will tell people that things they don't want to hear.  B/c some will hear what I say and turn.  Are we spending ourselves on things that matter or are we spending ourselves and our resources on things that will be destroyed by moth and rust, or stolen by robbers?  Are we allowing our true riches to be stolen away for things that don't matter.  We are like children who give up pearls for costume jewelry b/c it shines more than the pearls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked through Costco shopping for groceries, today, I almost began to weep looking around.   We have warehouse after warehouse filled with food, clothes, water, whatever we could desire when thousands a day die from starvation, thirst and preventable disease.  I just can't continue to pretend like I understand our way of life at all.  I have questioned so much for so long.  It runs deep in my heart.  Why do we spend so much on entertainment, more clothes we don't need, more and more and more.  We keep acquiring.  Yet, most of us still feel empty and purposeless.  Could that be because we haven't been given all that we have to consume it on stuff for ourselves?  Could it be that fulfillment comes from giving everything we have away, from trusting that if we give it all away, that Jesus will take care of our needs.  Seriously, He doesn't want a corner of our lives.  He wants all of our lives.  He wants all of our heart, all of our resources, all of our abilities and talents.  ALL of it, not part of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In light of all this I have been asking myself some very serious questions.  I feel very called to care for orphans overseas.  I don't know how; I don't know when; maybe I am just crazy, but I feel it so deep in myself.  I know that time is not yet, b/c my husband has not caught the fire that burns in my bones, yet.  This obviously  means we are not ready, yet.  When he says, "It's time."  I will know it is time.  Only God can change him and makes him to want to leave it all and go.  If I am called, though, He is called.  When the time comes, He will burn with it, too.  Meanwhile he keeps me from impulsively jumping into something we are not ready for.  But, onto the questions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can't have my juicer and my celery juice, would I still go?  If I can't make my green smoothies, would I still go?  If I have to live without my treadmill, would I still go?  If I had to go without my veggies, would I go?  What if I had to eat meat to survive, would I go then?  The conclusion I reached is yes, to all of the above.  I would go and learn to live a totally new way.  I would give it all up.  I am willing to sacrifice for the sake of the need.  I want put tangibility to my faith.  I don't want to just talk about what I believe.  I want to give my all for what I believe.  I want my life to reflect the grace and glory of God.  I want to love those who have no one to love them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so  much desperate need out there.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Below are some really interesting links to check out.  There are so many ways to make a difference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that for 40 cents a day, a person suffering with HIV be put on ARV therapy that will put the virus to sleep.  40 cents a day.  I spend more than that on Stephens gum.  Watch the &lt;a href="http://www.joinred.com/red/#lazarusEffect"&gt;Lazarus Effect&lt;/a&gt;; it's only about 30 minutes long, but it is really a great picture of the home ARV therapy has given. &lt;a href="%3Cobject%20width=%22640%22%20height=%22385%22%3E%3Cparam%20name=%22movie%22%20value=%22http://www.youtube.com/v/gKrtG724Cek?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US%22%3E%3C/param%3E%3Cparam%20name=%22allowFullScreen%22%20value=%22true%22%3E%3C/param%3E%3Cparam%20name=%22allowscriptaccess%22%20value=%22always%22%3E%3C/param%3E%3Cembed%20src=%22http://www.youtube.com/v/gKrtG724Cek?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US%22%20type=%22application/x-shockwave-flash%22%20allowscriptaccess=%22always%22%20allowfullscreen=%22true%22%20width=%22640%22%20height=%22385%22%3E%3C/embed%3E%3C/object%3E"&gt; Red Campaign video&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://donate.worldvision.org/OA_HTML/xxwv2ibeCCtpSctDspRte.jsp?lpos=top_drp_WaysToGive_GiftCatalog&amp;amp;go=gift&amp;amp;&amp;amp;section=10389"&gt;World Vision&lt;/a&gt; has a wide price range of gifts that can be given. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.hopechest.org/5for50/"&gt;Five for 50&lt;/a&gt; campaign gives some really great small steps to make a difference with the AIDS crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.drawnfromwater.org/the-story"&gt;Drawn from Water&lt;/a&gt; is an amazing organization that rescues "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mingi&lt;/span&gt;" children from being put to death.  They bring them into an orphanage to raise them in the fear and admonition of the Lord. Here is the &lt;a href="http://www.drawnfromwater.org/get-involved/sponsor-a-child"&gt;sponsorship page&lt;/a&gt; to sponsor one of these precious children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are few places I would like to direct you to start trying to make a difference.  I will probably post more as we go along and as I figure out exactly the direction that the Lord would have me take this blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-9086323355241171094?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/9086323355241171094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/01/thoughts-on-new-years.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9086323355241171094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9086323355241171094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2011/01/thoughts-on-new-years.html' title='Thoughts on New Years'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-789128904151671941</id><published>2010-12-31T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T12:27:30.742-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trials'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='speed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wind'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cycling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>Today's Lesson</title><content type='html'>I don't know who needs to hear this, but someone does; so I will be obedient to what I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for a bike ride this afternoon.  I wasn't sure if I even really wanted to, but I knew that if I didn't and the weather was bad for the next few days, I would be really mad at myself for not going riding.  The ride out was really hard; the wind was blowing so hard against me as I rode.  I could only go about 10 miles an hour (I am usually going about 20 to 22 on average).  So, my pace was half what I am used to.  Also, it takes a lot more work and hurts more to ride into to wind.  I just kept reminding myself that the same wind that was blowing against me was going to blow behind me on the way back.  The wind serves to make you stronger.  It was a metaphor that God was painting for me.  Sometimes in life that wind seems to blow so strong against us.  It seems like we are making no progress at all and could possibly being blown backward.  It seems like we aren't going to make it.  I can be so frustrating, exhausting and seem hopeless.  As I got to the end of the trail and turned to come back home, I felt exhilarated.  I felt re-energized knowing that the wind was about to be my friend.  I began to pedal and I could feel the wind behind me blowing.  After pushing so hard to make such slow progress the ride home seemed so amazing.  I just kept feeling like saying "blow me home, Lord."  I was almost in tears with joy thinking about how the same wind that blows against us to make us strong, can turn, blow behind us and make the progress seem unreal and so effortless.  It was as if I was flying (22 or 23 miles an hour). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hear is the message, though I don't know who it's for.  The wind is there to make you strong.  Hang on, keep pushing.  You can make it; He will make sure you make it.  And when the wind has done it's job and you have build the strength you need to build during this season, the wind will turn.  It will blow behind you and you will get to fly.  The wind is not forever.  That same wind will blow you right home.  The wind is good.  The wind is your friend.  Just hang tight; it's turning soon.  The ride home is worth the ride out!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems so trivial and silly now in print.  But I have decided to obey Him even when I feel like it could make me look foolish, b/c I value His opinion more than the opinion of anyone else.  It seemed really silly to be tickled to tears over the wind blowing behind me so I could feel like I was flying, but it was cool.  Only a cyclist can probably appreciate that feeling of a tail wind, but it is amazing and fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-789128904151671941?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/789128904151671941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/12/todays-lesson.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/789128904151671941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/789128904151671941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/12/todays-lesson.html' title='Today&apos;s Lesson'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-9068024538024367089</id><published>2010-12-15T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T14:29:20.327-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Presence</title><content type='html'>Everywhere I turn the message to me seems to be "stay in the moment, be present".  I have never been very good at that and I am not sure that I even totally understand what that means.  I do know that I have a loving, gracious heavenly  Father who is willing and in the process of teaching me what that means and how to do it.  Jesus was always in the moment, fully engaged and available.  Now, being in the moment is not something that we, as Americans, are very good at.  To further complicate that matter for me is the survival mechanism I learned from a very early age to keep myself alive.  I spend the first 20 years of my life escaping in my mind, detaching myself from whatever abuse I might be experiencing at the moment.  I lived most of my life in a very compartmentalized manner.  I would keep things in boxes and closets in my mind.  It has taken the last 18 years of my life to learn not to disassociate from what was going on around me.  But, for the majority of my life I felt like I lived inside a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;plexiglass&lt;/span&gt; box that no one else could see.  I could see and be seen, communicate and appear to be involved, but there was a  thick sheet of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;plexiglass&lt;/span&gt; between me and everyone else.  This left me feeling isolated and alone.  Now this compartmentalization and detachment served me well in my early years.  Without that coping strategy I am not sure I would have been able to survive the things I have survived, however, I cannot keep living my life that way, nor can I use the abuse as an excuse to stay disconnected.  For one thing, that kind of live is not truly alive; it is a hollow, empty, dead existence.  We are called out of death and into life.  We are called to depth, abundance and richness.  In the last 18 months I have learned, for the first time in my life to connect with people.  I have learned to allow people into my space and let them become important enough to me that they aren't dispensable.  I have learned to feel empathy for others, to feel their pain and joy, to share in the experience of humanity.  I have learned to not shut down when I feel emotions for myself or for others.  I have learned to show people how broken I am; I have learned to expose my weaknesses and struggles, to trust people with the holes in my armor and even begin to tear down the fortress that has kept me safe, but isolated.  This process has been a learning process and a healing process.  It has been allowing God to talk to me and expose the roots and then give me the courage to reach out and open up.  It has been such a tremendous and amazing experience.  I have so many really wonderful people in my life.  I have so many deep connections. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel like God is saying it's time to take it a step further.  I don't really live too much in the past.  The past is over; God has forgiven me and healed me of so much.  What I did not realize was that I have been living in the future more than that presence.  I am realizing that I have missed out on the fullness of so many experiences and so much love and beauty in my life b/c I was always striving to make things better.  I have been so driven for so many years to get us in a "better financial situation".  I have always wanted my children to have more than we did.  I wanted to take them on vacations, pay for them to go to college.  I wanted to be able to give them lessons/sports/or whatever they wanted to participate in.  I wanted to be able to give them braces, buy them a car when they were old enough to drive.  I didn't want them to feel like we were poor.  (Not that we are poor in comparison to the rest of the world.)  I am not talking filthy rich just comfortable.  What I am now realizing is that we are still pretty much in the same financial situation that we have been in for the last decade, so that striving and discontentment have not moved us forward at all.  What it has done is make me miss out on really being present for the life we have lived in the moments we have lived it.  It's not like I am saying that I wasn't around.  I just missed out on really just enjoying the moments and resting in exactly the place we were in.  I was discontent and striving, obsessed with this idea that if we had more, if I could give the kids what I didn't have that they would be happier and turn out better.  I realize now that I could have taught them the beauty of contentment in the Lord.  I could have taught them the beauty of God's provision and delighting in unexpected blessings instead of teaching them that "tomorrow when we have more then we can really live."  I have not taught them to rest and be thankful for the little things.  I have not stopped to smell the roses, or taste the sweetness of the fruit, or look at the beauty all around us, b/c I was in too big a hurry to get to some "ideal destination".  Who needs Disneyland when you have woods and bugs, creeks and fish, stars and lightning bugs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my point is (I hope I have conveyed my heart) that the moments and experiences I could have had with my children and husband were not fully experienced as they could have been b/c I was too busy being discontent and thinking that I would enjoy life when I "arrived" at the "destination".  I have heard a lot that life is a journey not a destination, but I think I just now really understand what that means.  The bumps, struggles, and tests are part of the beauty as are the moments of laughter, good food and just sitting under the stars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I cannot go back and change any of that.  I also cannot live in regret or condemnation.  What I can do is start today learning to be present.  I can start to be aware of things around me and in me.  I can begin to indulge the senses that God gave me and enjoy all that is around me.  I can be in the moments I am given and trust the the next moments will come by God's grace without me having to fret or help them along.  I can take moment to kiss my husband and tell him every day several times a day how much I love him and how grateful I am that he loves me and that I get to share life with him.  I can stop and listen to Chloe's  stories about her day.  I can allow my children to help me cook and sew or whatever they are interested in participating with me.  I can listen to the music Stephen wants to share with me.  I can gaze at the incredible beauty that Ally has grown into.  I can experience the smell of the coffee at work and connect with each of my customers with genuine appreciation that they have come to see me.  I can stop and slowly chew and taste my food.  I can be aware of how songs move me or art inspires me.  I can be aware of my breath going in and out as I run.  I can smell the food cooking and anticipate the taste in my mouth.  I can let myself touch the textures all around me.  I can stop to feel the wind and smell the scents it carries to me.  I can walk in the grass barefoot, jump on the trampoline, listen to my husband breath as he sleeps.  I can allow myself time to create just for the sake of creating.  The list is endless.  I will live in this moment.  It will take practice.  I am sure there is so much more to this that God will need to teach me, but today I will begin the journey of embracing the journey.  I will let the destination take care of itself.  I have ended up in so many places different from where I thought I would be.  I don't know exactly all the places this path God has me one will lead to, but I do know that I can enjoy the walk and experience it deeply instead of trying to get to where I am going "quickly".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-9068024538024367089?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/9068024538024367089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/12/presence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9068024538024367089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9068024538024367089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/12/presence.html' title='Presence'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3551794496424393842</id><published>2010-11-28T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T08:57:44.609-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kingcom'/><title type='text'>Rest for the Soul</title><content type='html'>As I talked about on my last post, I took a class that recently ended called "Renovation of the Heart."  It has a tremendous impact on me and is continuing to have an impact on my as I attempt to continue walking in the spiritual disciplines that I developed through the class.  The last couple weeks of the class ended up being very, very busy for me, so I have taken the couple weeks since it ended to slowly go through the last 3 chapters.  One of the exercises that I went back and did from chapter 11 in the book had really  impacted me the last couple weeks.  I didn't really think it impacted me so much at the time I did it; I undertook the exercise b/c I wanted to be faithful to finish the class strong and not skimp out on the end of it.  I have realized over the last couple weeks that it did impact my thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was to have Psalm 23 read out loud to me once through, then read again slowly pausing between each verse. ( I read it to myself).  The I was to ask the Lord these two questions: 1)What needed to happen for my soul to be restored?  2) What is the first thing I need to do to find rest in you?  I sat for quite a while asking and trying to be quiet and listen for the answers.  Quite honestly, I was also dozing off a bit b/c I was really tired that day.  I felt very impressed that the area of my life that I did not have rest in my soul was my children.  I feel pretty much at peace, trusting and restful in most other areas of my life.  I was not at rest in regard to my children.  My lack of rest is a little different than one might think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I trust the Lord with my children, or so I think.  I do not trust myself, though, with my children.  I feel like I have made so many mistakes raising them.  I feel like I will realize later that I have continued to make mistakes with them.  I try to do right by them.  I try to make wise decision in regard to them, but, if I am being brutally honest, I feel like a failure in the area of parenting so much of the time.  I didn't have much a role model growing up, and my role models when I started having children were extremely imbalanced.  I am old enough to have seen the kids of the church I attended when I first met the Lord and had Ally grow to adults.  There was a lot of hurt and mess they all had to work through due to the disciplinary measures and environments they grew up in.  So I have tried to strike a balance between the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt; discipline of that system and the lack of discipline I grew up in.  I sure don't have it figured out and I am so grateful for God's grace and mercy.  I have tried to be honest with my children about my weaknesses and struggles.  I have tried to keep open communication and not be so dogmatic about what I thought that they wouldn't feel like they could talk to me.  I try to apologize when I am wrong and take responsibility.  I try to see things from their perspective and not see "different" as "wrong".  I never wanted to be one of those moms who put down the kids music and acted like the music from my childhood was so much better.  I try to remember how frustrating it was when my parents hated my music, so I listen to their music with them and find that I actually end up like a lot of it.  I try not to get overly wrapped up in how they dress, what they do to their hair, etc; I try to encourage the dreams or interests they have and not force my expectations or dreams for their lives on them.  I have tried to do the best I can...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know that I am not always easy to deal with.  I can be irritable.  I put way too much pressure on poor Alexandra when she was younger.  I have drug them from church to church and only in the last year have put down roots.  I have not raised them in an environment to really learn what the Word of God says or how to walk with Jesus.  We don't eat dinner as a family and never have.  We don't pray together like we should or read the bible as a family.  They watched me struggle and lose the battle with alcohol for quite a while.  They have grown up in an environment where we have struggled with money their whole lives.  Things could definitely be worse, but they haven't gotten to travel or go on vacations.  They don't get a lot of extra stuff.  They have had to wear worn out clothes or what ever we were given.  All this material stuff may sound silly to most, but I just always wanted them to be able to do more than I was able to do.  I wanted them to see other parts of the world.  I wanted them to be able to do sports, or art, or dance, or whatever.  We just have not really  been able to do that very much.  I was always so busy when they were babies.  I didn't learn how to play as a child, so I wasn't very good at just sitting down to play games with them or pretend.  I didn't do crafts and fun stuff.  Sometimes I wish that I could have them as children now b/c I didn't really appreciate the time I had with them.  I wasn't good at being silly with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enough of that.  The point is... I am very aware of the mistakes that I have made.  I know that no one is perfect, but I don't really feel like I did as good of a job as I could have.  Not that it is all over.  I still have years to invest, love and impact them.  I just feel like some of the more formative years could have been better.  So, I have really struggled with fear that I have messed up my children.  I have been afraid that I have damaged them and that they will have a harder life b/c of me  or maybe even not serve God b/c of me.  Like I said, I trust God, but I have not trusted myself.  I have felt like maybe someone else could have done better or maybe I could have done a better job if I had started later in life.  What God showed me is that the root of not trusting myself really boils down to not trusting Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gently, over the weeks after asking Him to show me what needed to happen for me to find "soul rest" in Him in regard to my children, started to peel back layers and give me a realistic picture of the truth.  I have peace in my life over every thing that happened to me growing up and all the pain.  I am at peace with that fact that His grace has carried me throughout my entire life.  He knew everything that would happen and how I would react to it and the outcome of it all.  He knew when I would walk into that church where I accepted Him as my Creator and Savior.  He prepared my heart so that the words of David Fees would penetrate my heart and bring me to my knees.  He opened my heart and eyes to set me on the path of the Kingdom.  He even chose my parents to be who they are knowing how broken and incapable they were.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if that is the case for me.  If He loves me and His grace carried me and brought me to exactly the place to have my whole world turned upside down and put me on the path of serving Him.  Then the same is the case for each of my children.  He loves them more than I will ever be able to comprehend.  He chose me as their mother.  He chose the timing that each of them would be conceived and born.  He chose Ally's genetic father.  He chose Larry as Stephens father and chose the timing that he would be conceived.  He chose Larry to be Ally's father and ordained that they would love each other beyond any genetic differences.  God chose me to be mother to each of the three, Ally, Stephen, and Chloe knowing every struggle I have, knowing every mistake I would make raising them, and knowing the outcome of it all.  Nothing I have done has been a surprise to Him or thrown a kink into His plan for them.  A friend wisely said to me, "Do you think you are powerful enough to mess up God's plan?"  Even after that I still struggled with really resting in God's grace for me and my children.  But, when God broke it down so intricately, I finally got it.  He chose me, knowing how hard it would be for me to raise them and how many mistakes I would make and He actually wove into the fabric of each of their lives and His plan for them all of those variables.  It all comes together for good.  It all works out.  Just as my temperament and environment would shape me into exactly what would balance my husband and how his temperament and environment would shape him to bring about one beautiful union and person out of two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found soul rest.  I pray for my children every day and ask God to be merciful and call them to himself.  I ask him to set into motion those things that need to be to bring them to where he wants them to be and to do whatever it takes to bring about the most eternal significance and the most authentic and sincere relationship possible.  I trust Him to bring that to pass.  Salvation belongs to the Lord.  I cannot save my children; I cannot make them serve God.  I cannot control or protect them enough to guarantee they will have not pain or turn their hearts to God.  We all need God's grace and mercy to come to know Him and all we can call upon in regard to our children is His grace and mercy.  They will only serve Him if He opens their hearts to serve Him.  We can plant seeds, put the kindling around their hearts and model the kingdom, but only God can light the fire.  I will continue to seek to be faithful to my children, pray for my children and love them, but I won't fret and worry anymore, b/c He knows all and took all into account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is a really neat scene from a movie I saw a while back that I think illustrates so beautifully how God can set into motion a chain of events that will place us where we need to be when we need to be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKZRGRroDkQ"&gt;Stop the Flow&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3551794496424393842?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3551794496424393842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/11/rest-for-soul.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3551794496424393842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3551794496424393842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/11/rest-for-soul.html' title='Rest for the Soul'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-137956144452171240</id><published>2010-11-16T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T14:06:19.018-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ego'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humility'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pride'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sanctification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>A lesson in cleaning toilets</title><content type='html'>This is a post that has been simmering in my head for a few weeks.  It is another from the Fright Fest month; I have just been waiting for the time to type it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little background.  I have been taking a class over the last 3 months or so called &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Renovation-Heart-Putting-Character-Christ/dp/1576832961/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1289940984&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Renovation of the Heart&lt;/a&gt;; the book is written by Dallas Willard. It is about building spiritual disciplines into your life and allowing Christ to reshape you into His image.  That has been a theme in my life over the last few months anyway.  Everywhere I look God sends some situation, person or resource to point me in that direction.  I highly recommend the book.  It is not an easy process to begin; the digging can be uncomfortable if not painful, but as Christians that is what we are called to.  We are not called to pray a prayer and then live however we want.  That is not what the Gospel is about.  It is about being totally and radically changed from the inside out.  We are called to be disciples (apprentices) of Christ and to live our lives the way He lived.  He left us His example to follow.  The trick is that it is totally impossible to do on our own and in our own power.  Only in total surrender to Christ and His will, Spirit and power can we be remade in His image.  The equally tricky side of the coin is that He will not force us to change.  He will empower us and even do the work in us, but not if we don't desire it.  So it becomes what has been coined grace driven effort.  While we cannot do it without Him, He will not force it upon us if we don't desire it.  Now we could go really deep and say that really the desire comes from Him as well.  If you don't have the desire to have your life renovated and become like Christ, ask Him for the desire and He will be faithful to give it to you.  Believe me I have seen it in my life so many times.  I knew that I should desire something, but I did not desire it so I would ask Him and He has always been faithful to answer those kind of prayers.  The biggest example of that in my life lately has been dealing with my alcohol addiction (read about that here &lt;a href="http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/alcoholic.html"&gt;Alcoholic&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/sickness-and-alcoholic-continued.html"&gt;More on Alcoholism&lt;/a&gt;   )  So this book is really great about digging really deep and breaking down all the different areas that need to be renovated.  It will change your life for the better, but it won't be comfortable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this class, I was spending a lot of time praying and digging into my junk.  I have so much ugliness still inside of me.  If I'm not careful it can be disheartening. I have to remember to look backwards at how far I have come on this journey because when I just look forward it seems like I am making no progress.  God is so gracious to remind me all the time that I have not "made it"; there is still so far to go; I don't look like Christ even 10% of the time.  I am grateful that God uses situation in my life every day to remind me that I can't do this on my own; I cannot boast about the progress that has been made in my life.  It is Christ and Christ alone that justifies and sanctifies me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to my point in this post.  This season at Fright Fest the Saloon (where we handle costumes and makeup for the characters) toilet was on the fritz.  It ended up needing the plumbers out every weekend if not all three days of the weekend.   After the plumbers would come, then the cleaning crew would come to make sure the bathroom was clean for us to use.  The majority of the time it was this same young man who would come to clean.  I didn't really pay much mind to what was going on b/c usually I was doing makeup or on my way out to go check out how everyone looked at their posts.  One particular day near the end of the season, I needed to use the restroom before I went out so I was waiting on the guy to clean it.  I was standing near the door and ended up having a conversation with the young man.  When I say young man, I mean he was probably under 25.  He was cleaning the bathroom with a smile on his face and talking to me.  I mentioned that he must be tired of having to come and clean our bathroom for us.  He stated that it wasn't a big deal; the restrooms in the whole park are really old so he is always having to go all over the park cleaning up after the plumber.  I was struck by how much pride he took in his job.  He really did a good job; he didn't slop through.  He was not grumbling or ashamed.  He looked me in the face and talked about how it was his job to make sure the bathrooms were in clean condition after plumbing problems.  This was a normal, very intelligent, well mannered, nice looking young man.  As I waited I was cut so deep in my heart.  I don't think that I could take so much pride in being the person who cleans the toilets.  I felt so ashamed of my arrogance and ego.  I felt the Holy Spirit speak so clearly that Jesus would clean the toilets with nothing but love in His heart for the person who was going to use it.  He would not have felt like it was below Him; He would do it with such humility, beauty and love.  If I am called to be like Christ, then that is what He calls me to do.  I had to ask myself, "If that was my job, could I do it 'heartily unto the Lord' could I take pride in being the person who makes sure that the toilets are lovingly clean for people to sit on?"  If I was like Christ, the answer to those questions would be yes; I could not honestly say that I could do that.  Honestly, I am still sometimes ashamed to admit I work at Starbucks.  That is not meant to put anyone down or make anyone feel bad.  That statement is an honest assessment of how far off my heart is from where Christ wants it to be.  I know that I could not look at someone in the eyes and say that I clean toilets and do it with pride in my work and worship in my heart.  That is a glaring reflection of the pride, arrogance and ego that still lives in my heart.  Oh, how ugly I can be on the inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so convicted.  I have since begun praying that God would change my heart and perspective on my job.  He gave me the job; He calls me to work at Starbucks and expects me to do it "heartily unto Him".  He expects me to make coffee and take orders with love and humility in my heart.  I am the one who has taken the gift God has given me in putting me in my job and minimized it to "just coffee". There are no jobs that are meaningless.  Every job that every follower of Christ has should be infused with worship.  Every job is a solemn and beautiful call to worship our Creator and Savior with our hands.  Every moment of our lives is meant to be infused with worship.  This is something that was and is very important in a practicing Jewish persons life.  A Jewish person sees worship of the Creator God  is woven into the fabric of life.  In Jesus time that would have been a very prevalent way of life.  We seem to have lost this idea.  We so compartmentalize life that we cannot see that every thing we do is worship.  We aren't called to do God things on Sunday and non God things the rest of the time.  Every moment of our lives should be infused with and driven by worship of the Lord Jesus Christ.  He wants everything, every moment, thought, and little piece of our hearts.  If I could just get my heart wrapped around that idea the toilet guy would not have struck me so strongly.  I would have understood that it is just as it should be that he takes such pride in his work and feels so positively about what he does.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh!! I still am filled with so much ego and entitlement.  Thank God that His love for me is not dependent on my heart or actions.  Thank God that I am saved by grace and grace alone.  Thank Jesus that I don't have to clean up my heart.  He does it for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-137956144452171240?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/137956144452171240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/11/lesson-in-cleaning-toilets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/137956144452171240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/137956144452171240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/11/lesson-in-cleaning-toilets.html' title='A lesson in cleaning toilets'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3578875232690250036</id><published>2010-11-07T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T14:15:21.180-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='special fx'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Baby Boy</title><content type='html'>Yes, again it has been a very long time since I wrote.  October was a very long month.   I was intending to only work my yearly Fright Fest job doing makeup out at Six Flags, but things did not go quite as planned.  I ended up needing to have a surgical biopsy done which meant that I needed to keep my Starbucks job and insurance.  That complication led to me working two jobs; it was a pretty exhausting run.  Then in the midst of that I had surgery to have lymph node removed and biopsied.  Praise God, the lymph node ended up not being cancerous.  Oddly enough, it was filled with blue black tattoo pigment.  I didn't even know that was possible.  Google it if you are skeptical.  I was and I did and it does happen.  It is not harmful; it just mimics cancer b/c it causes a very suspicious looking calcification.  It was a day surgery which I thought I would quickly recover from, but, as it turned out, now three weeks later, it still hurts.  The combination of the above really kind of kept me in survival mode leaving no time to blog.  Not that I needed all that as an excuse b/c sometimes I go longer for no good reason.  This post, though, has been rolling around in my mind for literally 3 or 4 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love working Fright Fest.  It is my favorite job of the year.  I begin to get excited about July knowing that as we head into fall we will begin planning for the season to begin.  I have so much fun working Fright Fest.  There are a lot of reason for this.  I love Halloween.  I love zombies and gore.  I love the creativity I get to exhibit making different characters and wounds.  Most of all, though, I love the kids and people I get to work with.  I become very attached to them over the month of October.  However, I realized coming home the second weekend of Fright Fest that I wasn't having nearly as much fun as I usually do.  I began to think and wonder, "what is going on with me?"  "Why is this just not as fun as it usually is?"  I have had to work Fright Fest and another job before, so that wasn't it.  As I thought about it and analyzed myself, it hit me what it was.  My son, Stephen, had not been coming out.  He was what was missing.  He made Fright Fest fun for me.  I didn't even realize how much joy he brought to the job.  It wasn't until he wasn't around that I realized that he was a major part of what Fright Fest was to me.  Fright Fest was, "our thing".  Because I home schooled him for 2 and half years, he was basically with me every day around the clock for those almost 3 years.  We would begin to get excited together and count down the months prior to Fright Fest starting.  As it would get closer the excitement would build and even make it hard for him to focus on school.  He would stop about every 5 minutes to ask about something or talk about some aspect of the upcoming season.  Then it would start and we would begin planning and getting ready every  Thursday.  We would try to get ahead on school so that Fridays work would be light.  We would get up on Friday morning and start packing and prepare to leave.  We would drive together in the car, most of the time just him and me.  We would listen to music really loud and drive the 45 minute drive into Arlington.  The weekend would be exhausting and exhilarating.  Friday, Saturday and Sunday I would do makeup and he would watch and wait for time to go to the haunted house to scare the patrons.  He would scare from open to close with no break; he would often go without eating all day long and he did all this for free (no pay, just for the joy of doing it).  He would come even if he was sick; he never wanted to miss a moment of it.  So, it was Stephen; he made Fright Fest so much fun; his excitement was contagious.  It was not the same without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the last few weeks being at work at Fright Fest and especially driving home, I would think about how much I was missing Stephen being with me.  Everyone else missed him as well.  He is such a fun and energetic force to be around.  I began to realize that I was grieving over the loss of that experience.  I would sometimes come close to crying as I realize that my little boy is very quickly growing up.  He is becoming more independent and needing me less.  This year it has really hit me that the time we get to spend with our children is so short.  It is over before we know it.  They will always be our children, but it changes.  When your in the middle of the day to day living, day to day fun, day to day fighting, you think it will last forever.  It did not occur to me last year to cling to those moments with Stephen; I did not take time to relish the energy and excitement that we had together.  When it ended, I just thought, "we'll do this again next year."  last year was really the last year for that.  I never get to go back to that.  I have the memories, but that season will never be again.  People always told me to cherish those moments you get, b/c they are gone before you know it, but I didn't believe them.  Now I get to be the one telling people who won't listen to beware b/c in a flash it is over.  This year I went from spending every day with Stephen (more time than I thought I really wanted to spend with him) to him going back to school, not attending Fright Fest with me, and pretty much pulling away from me very quickly.  He doesn't have much time for me and for the most part finds me to be pretty annoying.  I just figured he would always be my little boy.  I realize now that I did not stop nearly enough to "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nuggle&lt;/span&gt;" with him when he asked.  He won't even hug me right now.  There has always been so many other things I needed to do when the kids were wanting my attention.  Those things seem so stupid and unimportant now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am absolutely stupid about getting his attention.  If I have a moment that he will give me the time of day I will do almost anything from enduring wrestling and arm punching to listening to any and every song that he wants to share with me.  If he stops to tell me something or says hey listen to this song mom, I am there b/c I know that those moments will continue to become less and less at least for the next couple years.  His latest obsession is Kid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cudi&lt;/span&gt; so guess who is newly a fan of Kid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cudi&lt;/span&gt;.  I don't always appreciate the language, but I do appreciate the opportunity to share something with my son.  Stephen also introduced me to T.I.  (talk about language).  When I hear those songs, though, they remind me of the moments I get to share with Stephen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe what I really want to share with everyone is take the moments when you can get them.  There are so many more when they are young, but remember they don't last forever.  Grab up every moment they will give you.  When they get older, you may have to share moments in a way different than you may want to or think about.  I may not appreciate all the music Stephen appreciates, but if I just forbid it then he will listen to it elsewhere without me.  At least if we are listening to it together, we get to share it and I have to opportunity to talk to him about it and maybe give him some perspective on what is being talked about.  Just remember there comes a time that you don't get as much control over the moments; you can either try to be picky and miss moments or you can relax a bit and have more moments; they may be different moments than you would choose, but they will be moments none-the-less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3578875232690250036?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3578875232690250036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/11/baby-boy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3578875232690250036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3578875232690250036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/11/baby-boy.html' title='Baby Boy'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3817243295063287349</id><published>2010-09-26T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T07:34:57.912-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='salvation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gifts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><title type='text'>Our Gifts are a grace from God</title><content type='html'>As anyone who knows me or follows my blog knows I grew up in a pretty hard situation.  Growing up was not pleasant, easy, or fun.  There was a lot of abuse, disappointment, and massive amounts of confusion.  What I did come to understand at a very early age was that the more independent I was the better off I would be.  I learned pretty early to take care of what needed to be taken care of myself and to have no need for anyone.  I learned to be very responsible at a very early age and to even take care of many other people in my life including the adults who were "theoretically" supposed to care for me.  My point in all of that is to say that one of the biggest struggles in my life is independence and a sense of self sufficiency. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    On a side note, I can see that I have raised my oldest daughter to be the same way.  She is  such a tremendous blessing; she is beautiful and strong and very capable of doing what she needs to do and not really needing anyone to help her.  The self sufficient part of me is so proud; then there is the part of me that is being restored and changed that knows I have done her a disservice.  She will have to come to the realization that she is totally dependent on God and that we are all created to need people and be dependent.  I can only repent of my sinful mistakes and pray that God will be gentle and gracious as He brings her to the realization of her need and true dependence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if something needs to be done, I just do it.  If I don't really want to do something that needs to be done, I am very capable of making myself do it anyway.  Many times I can and do push myself further than is healthy.  I put unreasonable expectations on myself and make myself take care of things on my own.  (To be fair, I am getting better about this as God heals me.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strength, independence and sufficiency in me that many people admire and think of in a positive manner is truly my Achilles heal, the weak spot in my armor.  I have such a hard time asking for help or allowing people to come along side me because I don't want to be weak.  The funny thing is that very tendency is the weakest spot in me.  It's like the wondering sheep; I am "strong" and stand up, but it isolates me from the fold and allows the enemy to attack without having to contend with my fellow sheep.  Now, I do in a sense realize my dependence on God, but that is not so hard for me because I trust Him.  I don't, on the other hand so much trust people. That, though, also stems back to not truly trusting God.  If I truly trust God, then I trust Him to put those people in my life that need to be there as well as trusting Him inside of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was reading this morning I came across a verse that really stuck out to me.  I began to meditate upon it and ask God to speak to me.  It struck the nerve of this very tendency in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Corinthians 4:7&lt;br /&gt;For who makes you differ from one another?  And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to think of my attitude about where I am compared to where I started out.  I have this attitude (which is a very prevalent American attitude) that I have picked myself up by my boot straps.  I have said out of my mouth, "I started out this life in a gutter and have clawed and fought to get to where I am today."  I have used this especially in dealing with other people who have not had to start out as far below ground zero as I did.  "Don't compare my progress in life to someone who has started out in a loving family, who got to have enough resources to survive, go to college, etc."  While there is some truth to that statement, I cannot even take credit for the progress.  Coming from being a homeless drug addict, with nothing and eating my dinner out of dumpsters does give somewhat of a disadvantage over a supportive home, encouragement, a church background, college, etc.  The problem in this whole line of thinking is that "I" have brought myself this far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I have that I was not given?  Do I have room to boast of my progress?  God called me out of darkness.  God has given me to grace to take each step I took out of the gutter and each step I continue to take away from that gutter.  Not only did He give me the grace, but He took  the steps inside me.  Even having started out in the gutter is a gift that God has given me.  He has allowed me to know Him in a very special way and to have a very deep sense of appreciation for what I have.  That is a gift.  When you have always had a bed to sleep in, you might not stop to consider what a blessing it is each day to wake up in a bed. I once owned 1 pair of underwear, 1 shirt, 1 pair of jeans, 1 skirt, 1 pair of Doc Martins, and a leather jacket.  Man, am I grateful for my closet full of clothes.  I only have to wear my underwear one time in between washings; I could even change them mid day if I should so feel inclined.  That is a gift.  Most people might not stop to be grateful for their underwear.  I didn't teach myself to be grateful for these things.  God, in His beautiful grace and mercy, allowed me to have the environment to foster that kind of gratitude.  When asked how my day is, I will often respond with ,"It is a good day because I woke up with air in my lungs today."  I really mean that.  I am not saying I don't ever struggle with my attitude because I do at times.  But, there were many days before Christ that I did not want to wake up; there were many days that I should not have woken up (I am sure there are more of those than I am even close to realizing).  No one promises me tomorrow, so when I roll over in bed awake, it is a gift I have been given.  It is another day to walk this earth and serve my Lord who created me, died to redeem me, kept me alive when I should have died over and over, called me out of darkness, and graciously leads me, heals me, changes me, and uses me each day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life mantra, the phrase that usually passed into my mind and heart at least once a day is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything I have You gave me; everything I am You made me; Everything I ever hope to be is tied up in You!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;What do I have that I did not receive?  How can I boast about anything?  He has graciously given me everything.  I did not carry myself out of the gutter.  He carried me out of the gutter.  I cannot take credit; I cannot boast.  I have been dependent on Him for every breath I have taken since me first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 71:6&lt;br /&gt;From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother's womb. I will ever praise you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my scripture reading on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Northumbria&lt;/span&gt; Community for the day. &lt;a href="http://www.northumbriacommunity.org/"&gt;http://www.northumbriacommunity.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It goes right along with the theme for the day.  God continues to faithfully chip away at that self sufficiency, independence and pride.  He reminds me that I did not give myself anything; I daily borrow life from Him.  I am so glad that He does not hold my pride and arrogance against me; He just gently reminds me, loves me, and graciously teaches me more about my dependence on Him.  I have come light years from where I started out, but it has been Him bringing me, not me bringing myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Lord Jesus, creator of the universe, redeemer of man kind and lover of my soul.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3817243295063287349?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3817243295063287349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/09/our-gifts-are-grace-from-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3817243295063287349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3817243295063287349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/09/our-gifts-are-grace-from-god.html' title='Our Gifts are a grace from God'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-6131260568033047883</id><published>2010-09-02T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T14:40:26.104-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quivering daughters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='restoration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>Thoughts on Grace</title><content type='html'>I have so many thoughts on grace.  My understanding of grace has changed and grown more than can even be measured over the years.  For me, learning about grace has taken so long.  I have a feeling, that stems from experience, that I will look back in ten years and see how little I really understood this mystery of grace today.  I certainly had no understanding of grace in the years I first began to walk with Christ.  I heard a lot about grace and I knew we were saved by grace, but I didn't really have any understanding of what that meant.  When I look back to 15 years ago, 10 years ago, 5 years ago, 1 year ago, I can see how far I have come in my understanding of God's immeasurable, consuming grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is in response to an opportunity to share thoughts in grace that my friend and author, Hillary McFarland (Quivering Daughters Hope and Healing for the Daughters of patriarchy), posted on her blog,&lt;a href="http://www.quiveringdaughters.com/"&gt; http://www.quiveringdaughters.com/&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To talk about my experience with grace, first I must give some history.  Those who already follow my blog know much of this history, but for new explorers I will give the short version.  For the more extensive version look back to&lt;a href="http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-beginning-start-of-this-path-im-on.html"&gt; http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-beginning-start-of-this-path-im-on.html&lt;/a&gt;; then look for part 2, 3, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began my life in a very dysfunctional and abusive house which was pretty non religious.  My mother was clinically depressed and estranged from her mother.  My grandfather (mom's father) had sexually abused all the children in the family from the time of my mother's childhood up to when we completely separated ourselves from the family when I was 15.  There some strange religious undertones relating to the grandparents, but there is not enough time to breach that subject today.  I began to do drugs pretty heavily at 13, spent many years locked up in rehabs and psychiatric hospitals, and repeatedly ran away, attempted suicide, and practiced self mutilation.  I finally ended up living on the streets.  At 19 years old I became pregnant; I continued to do drugs and attempted to procure an abortion (thankfully that did not work out).  At about 4 months gestation, while very high on LSD and inhalants, I had the experience of going to hell.  My mother had previously met Jesus and had been praying for me for several years.  When the hell experience happened, I called her.  I told her what had happened and asked her what I should do about it.  I didn't think I believed in God, but, when I came back from "Hell", I had a sense that I did not ever want to go to that place again and that if I ever did find myself there again, I would not be allowed to leave again.   God, being the amazing, gracious Father that He is, put the perfect answer in my mother's mouth. She said to me, "This is what I would say to do; pray and say, 'God if you are real, reveal yourself to me,' if He does then you will know, and if He doesn't then you haven't lost anything and no one even has to know that you prayed that prayer." So I secretly started praying that prayer.  About 3 months later I called my mother and asked to go to a Friday night church service with her.  She was very surprised, but of course, picked me up and took me.  That night, as I stood in the service, I felt the presence of God, but I did not know what it was.  I kept having tears flow down my face  (which I kept wiping away in frustration).  I met Jesus that night and was never the same.  I had never felt loved; when I was told that Jesus loved me as I was enough to die for me, it transformed me forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I did not realize was that as I began to learn about Jesus in the church I met Him in, I was taught about rules and striving to please Him.  I very quickly learned that He did not love me as I was.  I needed to clean up or at least put the ugly broken parts of me away so that I could make the church look good.  I was a "trophy".  "Look at what we did in her life."  I loved Him so much and wanted to please Him however I could.  I wanted to be clean and right for Him, but there were so many parts of me that were so broken.  Broken is an understatement.  There were parts of me that were crushed into finely ground powder.  I didn't even know what wholeness was supposed to look like.  I wanted to not struggle and walk in habitual sin.  I wanted to be free.  I was taught that if I just had enough faith, I wouldn't struggle with the pain and sin anymore.  I prayed so hard for more faith.  I tried to figure out the rules and  to be good girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         I have to interject that I have one of those really structured temperaments that was also conditioned toward a pretty severe Obsessive Compulsive tendency by my childhood environment.  I still tend to put things into my life and brain in the framework of boxes and rules.  So the legalistic environment fit into the way I tended to experience the world.  I wanted rules about how long I was supposed to pray, how many chapters to read in my Bible; if the church doors were open I had to be there.  There were a lot of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;do's&lt;/span&gt; and don't in my mind and world.  I still tend to be one of those people that others say is "disciplined".   What that really equates is my compulsive structure habits.  I can get caught in what I call "loops" of behavior; it may be how long I have to work out, or eating habits, or binge drinking.  Once I hit a "loop" it can be hard to find my way out of it.  It gets easier the longer I walk with Christ and learn to walk in his "unforced rhythms of grace".  There were lots of those "loops" in the beginning of my walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Compulsive tendencies of my personality combined with the "charismatic legalism" that I was spiritually developing in did not equal much understanding of grace.  I never felt good enough; I felt driven to pray more, read more, do more and compare myself to others.  I would judge and condemn constantly.  I had no concept of grace or mercy.  I was not kind or loving, b/c I did not really feel loved.  I had to hide the black sin that still strangled me like an orangutan on my back.  Some of those deep wounds inside of me have just begun to stop bleeding 18 years after meeting Jesus.  I was not in an environment in the first years that I could be honest about the devastation and brokenness inside of me so that I could have help baring those burdens and find healing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first real brush with the grace of God came out of a pretty big situation of sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The church I was in did not believe in dating; we practiced courtship.  The courtship, though, really needed "elder approval" to be smiled upon.  I had learned that if I rebelled against church leadership, i was rebelling against God b/c He had put them in authority over me.  I was supposed to follow what the leadership of the church said, "the Lord wanted."  Prophecy was a means of controlling those who would allow themselves to be controlled (my mother and I were very much willing to be controlled).  I was engaged to a young man when I had been walking with God about 2 years.  We were very careful not to be alone (in the beginning at least).  We did not even kiss one another.  He was not, however, one that would be controlled.  He had many questions about the way the church was being run and the control I was allowing them to have over me.  We met in the church through a singles group.  He started attending the church, but did not buy into many aspects of the church.  This led to many arguments between us, b/c I just wanted him to be "submissive" to the leadership.  I was afraid he and I would fall out of favor with God if he wouldn't submit.  All of this finally culminated in one of the elders telling me that God said I had to break up the relationship (this was 9 months into courtship and 3 months before the wedding was to be).  This broke my heart.  I was told, though, that "the heart was deceitfully wicked above all things" and "that he would be a weight to me and would keep me from fulfilling the call of God on my life".  When it was presented to me that way, I felt like I had no choice but to submit.  I loved Jesus with all my heart and would not choose a man over my Savior.   I cried every day for 6 months; sometimes I cried to the point of almost throwing up.  I would beg God to help me not love Larry.  I wanted to obey God, but it hurt so bad and I could not stop loving him.  He was my best friend.  He loved me even though he knew about all of the ugly scarred devastated parts of me.  I had never loved anyone or been loved by anyone the way he loved me.  It ripped both of our hearts out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After six months of grieving and trying to forget, in a moment of weakness, I went back to him.  Being with around him was like being home.  At that point, we crossed to line of being involved physically.  In the three days we were back together, I conceived my son.  Then I was drawn back into the church where I was told to cut ties with him.  When I realized, 6 weeks later, that I was pregnant, I was told that God still did not want me to marry him.  I also stood before the church to confess my sin.  I felt so ashamed; I had let the church down; God was disappointed in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result, of my perception of God, I thought that God was going to punish me.  I was so excited to be pregnant.  I wanted another baby.  Certain leaders in the church tried to pressure me to put the baby up for adoption and to go as far as lying to Larry about losing the baby so I could leave for the rest of my pregnancy and give the baby up with his permission.  I refused.  B/c of my sin and my refusal to cave to the pressure to give up the baby, I waited daily to lose the baby.  I thought that was how God was going to punish me for me sin of fornication.  I would go into the bathroom every time expecting to see signs of miscarriage.  I really thought that God allowed me to get pregnant so He could take the baby away to hurt me and punish me.  I think I was pretty detached from the baby for most of my pregnancy b/c I was waiting to have him taken away from me.  It wasn't until I held him in my arms that I believed that God wasn't going to take him away from me.  Through the pregnancy and birth God showed me about grace.  As I held him in my arms it was as if God whispered in my ear, "look I gave this treasure to you in spite of your choice".  He didn't give me the baby so He could take it away from me.  He gave me the pregnancy to show me His grace and mercy.  He blessed me with an amazing gift in spite of my sin.  That was the beginning of seeing God loves me just b/c He chooses to.  I cannot get Him to love me any more or any less.  He loves me apart from my behavior and in spite of my wicked heart.  B/c He first loved me, I can love Him.  That baby is now my amazing and handsome 14 year old son, Stephen.  Stephen Isaac (meaning crowned with laughter) is my baby of grace.  God used him to teach me about His amazing grace.  God would also used baby Stephen to keep me connected to the young man who would eventually ( 3 or so years later) become my husband in spite of the manipulation of the church.  Today, September 2, 2010, we celebrated 11 years of beautiful marriage.  He is still my best friend and I love him more today than the day I married him.  We have an amazing commitment and resilience to our marriage b/c of the path we had to walk to end up together.  There are more details on how we ended up together at these posts &lt;a href="http://http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-1.html"&gt;http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-1.html&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-2.html"&gt;http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-2.html&lt;/a&gt; , &lt;a href="http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-3.html"&gt;http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-3.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many more thoughts on grace, but I have taken up enough time today.  I will share more another time.  I just wanted to start with the first major brush with grace in my walk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-6131260568033047883?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/6131260568033047883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/09/thoughts-on-grace.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6131260568033047883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6131260568033047883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/09/thoughts-on-grace.html' title='Thoughts on Grace'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-1799749291224407172</id><published>2010-08-21T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T09:53:25.032-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creativity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Just some random thoughts on food</title><content type='html'>I was listening to a sermon this morning while I rode my bike; he was talking about the fact that God created everything to bring Himself glory.  He created food, sex, marriage, the seas, the mountains, man, everything to bring Him glory.  He talked about how the food we eat should cause us to take pause and worship the Creator who gave all the different tastes and textures of food.  We eat so fast that I don't think we really stop to taste and eat with gratitude.  Do we really think about the flavors of the foods we eat?  When we take it in do we consider the creativity of God that He would give so many different flavors of food that would grow out of the earth? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I began to think about what this means to food and to food bringing forth worship from us when we have dramatically changed the way that food tastes.  We have genetically modified so many foods; we add sugar, salt, high fructose corn syrup, coloring and so many chemicals to our food.  First, when food does not taste the way God created it to taste, how does that effect our response to the food.  Do we stop and thank God for what we are eating?  Do we experience the beauty that He intended when he brought forth the trees and plants from the soil?  I know that I have read about how lifeless most of our food is.  Our fruits and vegetables don't have nearly the vitamins and minerals that they are supposed to have.  We pick them before they are ripe (much of the vitamin content happens during the ripening process).  Our soil is completely depleted of minerals b/c of the way that we grow crops without rotating or resting the soil.  The earth is filled with chemicals that end up in our foods.  We have genetically modified foods so that they will grow in places there weren't intended to grow.  We have done away with the biodiversity of food.  Many of the types of potatoes and grains are extinct b/c we just grow certain strains.  Much of our seed supply is not even pure anymore.  Seeds are now being patented and then cross pollinated with genetically modified strains.  It's no wonder food does not cause us to stop and worship the Creator; it is no longer what He created.  We worship man for changing the food supply and giving us lifeless food to eat.  Disease related to food is rampant; We are overweight, have diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, heart disease and any number of other diseases that are related to food.  We have more food than we know what to do with only we are nutrient deficient b/c we eat lifeless food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have read that all matter gives off vibrations.  Living beings give off these vibrations.  Living food grown from the earth takes in the vibrations of the earth and materials surrounding it.  If we take living food and process it so that it is no longer living, what does that do to us?  We are not getting the life that was intended to be in our food.  Food does not give us life and does not taste like the creator intended it to taste.  Everything is related to everything else.  God intended the earth to be in rhythm.  There was a rhythm that was fractured at the fall.  We have gone so so far from what was originally intended.  The rhythm and chain is broken.  Maybe we should think about getting back to the simplicity of things.  We don't even walk on the earth most of the time.  Concrete is everywhere.  Trees are few.  We seem to have become completely disconnected from creation.  What are the consequences of that?  Most of us only experience the sterility of what man has created, not the beauty, simplicity and complexity of what God created.  We can be grateful for our food, but does it bring forth worship in us for is beauty, simplicity and deliciousness?  Are we missing out on much of what food was intended to be?  We want sweets; we want rich fattening food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food was originally so much more than it is now.  There was so much to growing it and the culture that growing food involved.  There was the cooking of the meal, the combination of ingredients, the enjoying of eating what was labored over with love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little food for thought.  (hahaha.)  I made a funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-1799749291224407172?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/1799749291224407172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/just-some-random-thoughts-on-food.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1799749291224407172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1799749291224407172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/just-some-random-thoughts-on-food.html' title='Just some random thoughts on food'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-175254938644753782</id><published>2010-08-17T14:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T09:54:20.458-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alcoholism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wholeness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>Reflections</title><content type='html'>This post took me a week to finish b/c things have been so crazy; it was written in 3 different sittings. Hopefully it is not too discombobulated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I celebrate and give thanks to God today for a full year without drinking, it has led me to think back to the place I was a year ago.  Thinking on the last year causes me to take pause in awe of all that God has been so good to do for me.  It seems like in the last 2 years He has grown me more than in the previous ten years.  Probably the previous ten years were really building up to  and laying groundwork for the seeds that have been germinating in my life to break forth in fruitfulness now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the months previous to finally getting sober, we had begun attending church after about a 2 year absence.  I was a Christian and I definitely loved God during those two years, but I was in a desert for those two years.  Things were so dry.  I felt so isolated.  It also seems like, looking back, I was in a sort of eclipse.  The Light was shining on me, but it was veiled by darkness.  I prayed and talked to God, but the vibrancy was not there.  He was so distant to me.  I think during those years the darkness inside of me that I had hidden and tried to clean up myself really began to bubble up inside of me.  The parts of me that I was so ashamed of  and the deep wounds inside of me began to hemorrhage.  I began to bleed out internally.  I think that darkness so overwhelmed me and the hemorrhaging reach a point that I was desperate to find freedom and wholeness.  I realized that I could not fix it myself and that God was not going to just come in and fix it.  You see, He has designed us to be in community.  He has designed us to help one another to bear burdens, to pray for one another, to need accountability, and to bring healing to one another.  For years I had cried out and asked for God to fix me and make everything right, but I wanted it my way.  I wanted to be able to deal with it just Him and me.  I didn't want to have to open up and show people the black rotting parts of my soul; I was afraid of what would happen if I really showed people the darkness inside of me that I struggled so intensely to defeat. I just knew I was the only one with so much ugliness and knew that I would be cast aside and rejected for it; so I pretended it wasn't there.  I didn't hide it from God, but I hid it from everyone else.  I wanted to have Him and not need anyone else.  And He refused to do it that way.  He had healed many things in me, but He would not let me get completely free and healed on my own.  He let me bleed out until I was willing to allow others to help me along the journey.  He let me get desperate enough that I would do whatever it took.    At that point of bleeding out and desperation, we began to attend a church.  I also began to attend Celebrate Recovery, a Christ centered 12 step program. I did  a lot of crying out to God to help me and draw me back into His presence and His light.  I knew what it was like to walk deeply with Jesus, and I knew that I had wondered far from that place.  I desperately wanted to love Him more than anything else and I desperately wanted the deep intimacy that I had previously walked in.  I knew that, if I cried out to Him, He would meet me in my desperation.  I knew that He wanted to walk with me and envelop my being even more than I wanted it.  I also knew that He would only answer sincere cries and not pretense.  I also knew that sometimes He makes us keep crying out and waiting for Him before He comes to us, even though He desires to be close to us.  And, as a matter of fact, He is always close to us, but we do not always feel Him. Sometimes He lets us feel distant from Him.  I cried out every day, "Lord, please draw me near to you.  Bring me back to the place where you are my best friend."  I clung to the verse Jeremiah 29:12-14 "Then you will call upon me and go and pray to me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek me and find me, when you search for me with all your heart.  I will be found by you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back from your captivity..."  "I would pray I am seeking you with all my heart, Lord please help me to seek you with all my heart."  I would go to church and sing the worship songs, but they felt so hollow to me.  I do not like to be a hypocrite.  I do not like to put on pretense.  I try very hard to be real and not put on a show or a face.  I didn't want to sing, "Lord I need you more than the air I breathe", or "I want you more than anything else," when it was not the truth inside of me.  I don't like to lie to anyone, but I sure don't want to lie to the Lord b/c he knows it all anyway.  So as I would sing, I would cry out to Him please make this the truth.  And every day I would cry out to Him please draw me near to you and take me out of the dryness and make the words to the songs I sing really how I feel.  I knew from years of walking with Him and seasons of dryness that if I kept crying out He would answer me.  (We all go through dry periods and times when He pulls away so we won't take Him for granted to make us seek Him harder.) I had not been this far from Him or so dry since the day He introduced Himself to me, but I knew He would come.  Then I realized a couple months later, that I really meant the words I was singing and that I had fallen back in love with my Lord.  I was daily walking with Him as my best friend.  I still struggled with drinking for about six more months.  Most of the people who knew me would not have had any idea that I was struggling like I was or that I even had a problem.  My family knew very well, though.  My husband just prayed for me and asked God to help me find my way out of the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the beginning of coming out of the eclipse.  It wasn't like full darkness; it was more like an eclipse.  There was a huge battle to come to the realization that I really was powerless;  the denial had a pretty tight grip on me.  There was a part of me that knew that I was powerless over my drinking, but a stronger part of me tried to pretend like I was in control; I just didn't want to quit.  (If you want to read more about why I drank and the lies I told myself about it, go to the post &lt;a href="http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/alcoholic.html"&gt;http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/alcoholic.htm&lt;/a&gt;l  &lt;a href="http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/sickness-and-alcoholic-continued.html"&gt;http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/sickness-and-alcoholic-continued.html  &lt;/a&gt;I came out of the eclipse in so much a better place than I was before the time of eclipse.  It was not wasted time.  It was a very important part of my walk.  I learned so much and  had so much broken out of me; the Lord really taught me about mercy and grace.  He really taught me compassion b/c the struggle was so intense.  I really was powerless.  I really and truly could not get free or even muster the desire to want to quit drinking.  I am an extremely type A individual.  I decide I am going to do something and I do it, or I decide I want to stop doing something and I just stop.  Most of my close friends talk about how disciplined I am and how driven I can be if I have an end in mind.  What that strength leads to, though, is that I can be a very proud, self sufficient, sometimes arrogant individual with very little compassion or mercy.  Well, really, I am less of that, but it is still inside me.  Thankfully, much of it has been broken out of me; judging by how much of it is still inside of me, there must have been tons of it.  Becoming an alcoholic that was truly powerless to find freedom was so so so good for me.  So much of that pride and self sufficiency was broken out of me and so much humility and compassion was worked into my soul.  I can not take one iota of credit for my sobriety.  I did not want to quit.  I had to ask God to even give me the desire to quit.  I know what it is like to really struggle so I do not put myself above those who would struggle and I can walk along beside them and love them now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My walk is back to what it was when I first met Jesus, only better.  I get to ponder His words and walk with him daily.  I get to have Him as my closest friend, only I am more humble and wiser now.  (Don't get me wrong I am not humble, just a little less proud).  I also get to share this beautiful walk with a huge family.  I have brothers and sisters all over the world and I have a close community who knows my struggles and my darkness and loves me through anyway.  They challenge me and pray for me and question me when I need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful that He is so good to me.  I am so glad that He loves us enough to let the dryness into our lives so that we can deal with more of our baggage.  I am so glad that He loves me enough to let me bleed out internally so that I can see that I need others in my life and I cannot handle it on my own.  I am grateful that He does not love me the way I love my children.  I want to shelter them from pain and keep all the bad away so they don't hurt, but that is not always the best thing.  I would choose the easy path for them and thereby rob them of the blessing that the desert and the darkness and suffering would bring to them.  I am also glad that He loves them better than me so that He won't let me protect them from the suffering that is good for them and that will bring about His plans for their lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-175254938644753782?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/175254938644753782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/reflections.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/175254938644753782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/175254938644753782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/reflections.html' title='Reflections'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-6593745042609680852</id><published>2010-08-14T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T08:20:29.246-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='restoration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wholeness'/><title type='text'>God never ceases to amaze me</title><content type='html'>I had a really amazing and surreal moment this morning that I wanted to blog about.  I am not sure this will even make sense to anyone reading it, but I have to get over letting what people may or may not think about my writing influence my posts.  I need to be faithful to write what is on my heart, and trust that God will do whatever he wants with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was riding my bike this morning and listening to a Matt Chandler sermon as has become my habit when I ride.  I actually haven't ridden in about 3 weeks and I actually enjoyed the ride tremendously.  I have been listening to a really old sermon series from 2006 called Beyond the Sun: A study of Ecclesiastes.  I am really enjoying it.  It is helping me to really get some perspective on life and try to live as God would have me live which is really actually the point in all sermons.  The premise of the series is that everything under the sun is meaningless.  Everything we do and seek after is empty, a chasing after the wind.  That is unless we get beyond the sun.  If we can get the real point and live the lives we have been given in light of the Cross of Christ and what it means.  When we can see everything in the framework of the cross then hard times are easier to deal with, we can enjoy what we are given b/c they are gifts and not the point and end to it all, we can make choices more based on what God wants not what we want or what the world system says we should want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I rode, I was listening to sermon about the middle of the series and I remembered the sermon so I looked at the date on the podcast.  We were attending the Village when this series was being preached and I was in the service when he preached it.  The moment came when I realized this is one of last sermons we heard before we left the village.  As a matter of fact, I am 90% sure that this is the last sermon we heard him preach before we left.  He was addressing Eccl 7:6 "For like the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool. This is also vanity. " He was talking about how pride is the most destructive force in the universe.  In pride we look at ourselves on fire and laugh and pretend like we are not burning up.  The church runs around wreaking of smoke and pretending like everything is okay.  Marriages fall apart b/c instead of screaming help we are on fire as things get bad, we hide it and laugh and pretend like everything is okay.  We struggle with debilitating sin, addictions or wounds that cause us to hemorrhage the life out of ourselves, but instead of screaming HELP!! I am on fire and burning to death, we put on a face and pretend all is well partially b/c we assume we must be the only ones who are on fire and so we can't open up and ask for help.  The "church" instead of being a burn unit, like it was originally, where fire is put out, bandages are applied and healing happens, has become a place where we are all completely deformed by the fires we are hiding.  We aren't real and we can't help the people who don't know God and are on fire b/c we won't be honest about our fire and get help.  Marriages don't fall apart over night; they fall apart as two take one step at time away from each other and refuse to acknowledge the reality that things are not going well and that the marriage desperately needs help.  We don't get trapped in deep sin or addiction over night, we slowly choose to give more control to whatever, and the more we hide it the tighter the grip it has on us becomes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason this was so striking to me was the place we were at back then and what we would walk through over the 2 years after we left the Village.   We really were on fire.  We went through a really, really dark period in our lives and in our marriage after we left the Village.  Things got very dark and very desert like.  I do believe that God brought us to the desert to pound some things out in us (especially in me), to get rid of some religious baggage I was still carrying and to reveal some really bad stuff buried in the basement of my soul.  It was a necessary part of my walk and I am grateful for it.  Anyone watching from the outside would have seen us as "back &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;slidden&lt;/span&gt;" and I guess in a sense that was true, but I was also still totally in love with God and crying out to Him daily.  We were kind of smoking (figuratively speaking) when we left, but we would erupt into full blown flames shortly after.  Over those two or three years after leaving, I really got kind of lost.  I got lost in the world of makeup and hair; I got lost in pursuing "success", "money", "things".  I became completely consumed with becoming "something" so I could prove  I was worth something.  Larry and I went through about a year and half or 2 years that we pretty much just coexisted in the same house.  We were cold and not really happy.  We didn't talk about divorce or anything like that, but my heart was very far from him.  It is probably only God's grace that I didn't have an affair, b/c I think I was dangerously capable at that point.  I would begin to really battle alcoholism at the latter part of that couple years.  I loved God, but I did not love His church.  I had become so disillusioned.  Part of that may have been things people did, but the bigger part of that was that I felt completely isolated and alone b/c I was hiding so much of myself.  I was trying to be the person I had forced and molded myself to be instead of letting God define me, tell me who I was and allow me to embrace the me He intended when He created me.  I was so protected internally and so with drawn emotionally from everyone.  I did not know how to have a truly open, not dispensable relationship.   So my disillusionment had more to do me hiding and feeling totally disconnected than it had to do with anything Christians did.  We would go through a long season of being even more isolated, having friends that did not have the moral or spiritual beliefs we did, being so so dry.  As I said, it was such a good season for us.  It was difficult, but when I did come back around to knowing that we really needed to be in a church where we were accountable, being taught and trying to build authentic relationships, I came back a different person.  So much of the really religious, somewhat legalistic, proud, and self righteous ideas had been stripped away.  I reached the place where I didn't want to hide anymore.  I wanted to lay out the truth of who I was and what I struggle with on the table knowing that the one's who couldn't take it weren't true friends and the one's that chose to be in relationship with me anyway were the kind of friends God wanted me to have.  So actually, the fire was good for us.  It was purging; it was destructive only to those things that were corruptible, but it worked an eternal weight of glory, it left the true faith purified by fire that God wants us to have.  God led us into the desert and let the smoldering sinfulness of our flesh erupt into purgatory flames of purification.  We came out of that desert place ready to move forward with less baggage, less secrets, and a desire to do whatever was necessary to go where God was calling us so we could do the works He prepared beforehand for us to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just such a surreal experience to hear that message 4 years later almost exactly and look back at where we walked soon after and where we are now.  I had no idea sitting in that church what was in store for us over the next few years.  I also had no hope or inkling that I could be as healed and free as I am at this point in my life.  I know that He is no where near finished with me either.  I will look back in 2 years and think boy I thought I was healed back then, look at where I am now.  I feel like my whole walk has been such an amazing and wonderful adventure.  It has been such a beautiful picture of His grace and redemption.  Parts of me that I despaired could ever be whole are so beautifully restored.  God is a great and amazing God.  He has been so so so good to me.  I could never enumerate or even realize how great His grace has been to me and how much he has done in my life.  I have no idea how many times He snatched me from death's grip b/c He wasn't through with me.  If I were to praise and thank Him every minute of every day for the rest of my life it would not be enough.  He is so great and His grace so so much greater than we can comprehend.  To know that He chooses to let me be a part of His plan and see how blessed I am, is so overwhelming to me.  He is good!!!  I stand in awe of the fact the He made me exactly how He wanted me to be and that I have arrived at a place in my life that I like me and appreciate who I am in Him is awesome to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-6593745042609680852?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/6593745042609680852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/god-never-ceases-to-amaze-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6593745042609680852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6593745042609680852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/god-never-ceases-to-amaze-me.html' title='God never ceases to amaze me'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-8889547389010747768</id><published>2010-08-08T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T06:40:09.099-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poor'/><title type='text'>Questioning the Norm</title><content type='html'>I have been struck so many times lately with the oddity of our way of life.  I have to know if the way our society ever strikes anyone else as odd.  Surely I am not the only one who stops to question what we call "normal".  I know that most people just take for granted that the way things are is just how they are.  I cannot look at things and practices and not question.  Maybe it is the influence of the mountains of books I have read and the hours of documentaries I have watched.  I do acknowledge that I am kind of an odd bird.  I don't really enjoy reading fiction.  I do like a good movie, but I am much more inclined to watch a couple of good documentaries.  I am not so much interested in historical documentaries either unless they are tied to some current event and used to explain why something is the way it is.  I am not interested in history just for the sake of history.  I am interested in the path that has lead up to some current event.  I have some friends that think it is really quite strange.  When I asked my husband about it, he said, "It really pretty much matches your temperament and way of thinking."  I am a very literal and concrete individual.  I want to know what the benefit of something is before I will consider it.  For example,  I am not inclined to take a day of rest just for the sake of taking a day of rest.  I have, however, begun to take one b/c it makes me more productive and able to function better during the rest of the days.  Increased productivity and efficiency is a good reason to take a day to rest.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so my husband and I took a day to hang out yesterday for his birthday.  We ate lunch, saw a movie and walked around the mall.  As we walked around the mall which was incredibly packed with people, I was just struck with how odd our lifestyle in America is.  If we take the "norm" out of the framework of "America", it is odd.  How strange is it that we have buildings that are blocks long full of rows and rows of things to buy.  There is store after store of merchandise competing for our our dollar.  Generally, we don't make or produce anything.  We go into a store and buy off the rack one of dozens of the exact same versions of shirts, skirts, pants, shoes, whatever.  We have lost the sense of accomplishment of making something with our hands.  We don't exercise the creativity that God breathed into us when He created us.  Our whole economy is built on getting the consumer to consume.  It is all about getting my dollar from me.  If we don't spend, we go into a recession.  Millions of people have a job that is totally motivated by getting the consumer to spend.  They don't make anything, repair anything, grow anything.  Their sole responsibility is selling.  Eventually this has to lead to an economic collapse.  Surely we cannot continue to function in this manner.  And the producers of products have to keep us thinking that we must have these things or we won't spend money.  If there were to be a shift in giving to those in need, funneling the resources to those who really need them, it would cause a collapse.  If we wake up and start seeing that we don't need the newest gadget or this seasons clothing as bad as the orphans in Africa need to be cared for, or the widows need food, or the slaves need us to fight for their freedom, or the millions who have no access to clean water need water, then what would happen.  The country goes into a recession and we lose our jobs, then we have no resources.  It's like this huge never ending cycle of the "haves" consuming and the "have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nots&lt;/span&gt;" continuing to suffer.  Maybe we need a total economic collapse so we can start over and try it differently.  Greed, covetousness and idol worship riddle our land.  We don't bow to golden calves anymore; we bow to Apple, Coach, MAC, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Prada&lt;/span&gt;, "big house", nice car.....  we bow to the God of self.  We grab at whatever we desire with no thought about what we really need and how we could use our excess to impact the desperate and dying.  We consume and consume and consume.  Everything we buy is individually packaged for convenience.  So we throw billions of pounds of waste into the world so we don't have to work quite as hard to feed ourselves.   We use billions of gallons a year at water parks so we can be entertained.  We use who knows how much electricity at theme parks, movie theaters, bars, and gaming venues.  Why? So we can be entertained.  So we can keep ourselves from thinking about the emptiness inside of us.  So we don't have time to stop and think about the fact that we are chasing a vapor that we will never be able to get our hands on.  We don't want to question the way we live or whether we should be a little less extravagant so that we could use the resources God has given us a little wiser.  I have not even touched on the fact that the rows and rows of products on display for us to buy are made elsewhere in the world and shipped in for us to buy.  And to make that even worse those laborers who produce the merchandise do not even really benefit from the production.  If they get paid at all, it is not a fair wage.  Many times our merchandise is being manufactured using slave labor, but we don't want to know that.  As long as we don't ask where it comes from, then we don't have to feel guilty for the part we play in the whole mess.&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry if this was not a chipper or easy post to read, but I cannot keep quiet any more.  It blows my mind to really think about how we operate and further blows my mind that so few people even stop to question or see it as odd.  We don't grow our food anymore, we go to the store where rows and rows of packages food competes for our dollar.  There are men and women who are paid huge salaries to develop marketing strategies to get us to buy certain products.  They are using the same techniques that the serpent used on Eve.  The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life.  Read it 1 John 2:16&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all that &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world. (New King James)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Jonn&lt;/span&gt; 2:15-17&lt;br /&gt;Don't love the world's ways. Don't love the world's goods. Love of the world squeezes out love for the Father. Practically everything that goes on in the world—wanting your own way, wanting everything for yourself, wanting to appear important—has nothing to do with the Father. It just isolates you from him. The world and all its wanting, wanting, wanting is on the way out—but whoever does what God wants is set for eternity. (the Message)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Genesis 3:6 (New King James)&lt;br /&gt;So when the woman saw that the tree &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; good for food, that it &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make &lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt; wise, she took of its fruit and ate. She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a little extra food for thought when you are being marketed to.  Remember where it comes from.  They have learned from the father of lies himself.  He was the first marketing agent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-8889547389010747768?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/8889547389010747768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/questioning-norm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8889547389010747768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8889547389010747768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/questioning-norm.html' title='Questioning the Norm'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-4933993318526261489</id><published>2010-08-07T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T07:58:32.314-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suffering'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>Waiting for God</title><content type='html'>I love God with all my heart and desire to serve Him faithfully; I do not, however, long for His coming.  That is the honest truth.  I strive to be honest and not put on pretense about my struggle or how I really am.  So I have never felt a longing like I just wanted Him to come back.  I know the famous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Paulian&lt;/span&gt; scriptures, "For me to live is Christ, to die is gain," and others.  I just could not honestly say that my heart was longing for His return.  I want to walk with Him and talk with Him; I want to follow Him, but there is much work to do here on the earth.  I have heard people saying they long for His return.  It just always seemed like some sort of suicidal discontentment with life.  Romans says that creation eagerly awaits the revealing of the sons of God, and groans to be delivered from the bondage of corruption.  So I do long to see creation delivered from the bondage of sin and long to see the restoration of God's original perfection.  I don't sit and groan for Him to come back.  I usually don't really get the people who say they do.  There are so many lost still in the world.  I am not ready to leave yet, b/c I feel like there is work for me to do and more preparation needed to get me ready to do more work.  I have children to raise, things to learn and I want to continue to be changed into His image b/c I sure have not arrived at the place where I resemble Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, now I get to my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a documentary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;junky&lt;/span&gt;.  I am totally a dork about it.  I watch them and watch them.  I find them far more entertaining than regular movies.  I like to learn and see other perspectives.  I also like to be reminded of the evil and suffering in the world.  It is so easy to close a deaf ear to suffering in our society b/c we are so blessed.  We forget the so many in the world are desperately poor and oppressed.  I feel like if I keep it fresh in my mind that, hopefully, it will influence decisions I make and effect how I spend my money.  I watched a couple of really good ones in the last couple weeks that impacted me.  I watched "The End of Poverty," and "Blue God: The World Water Wars."  I was so sad and angry to see how our lifestyles feed into the poverty of the world.  I was angry about big industry and how they get to operate without having to answer for the evil practices the continue in.  The thought that a huge water conglomerate can make agreements with a government and buy a water source then charge so much for the water that the poor cannot afford to buy it sickens me.  I also felt so helpless to do anything about the evils that I continue to remind myself are in the world.  What can I do against a huge water monster to help give water back to the people who should have ownership of it anyway?  What can I do to fight the agricultural practices that keep the poor in other countries from being able to feed themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked into church last week pondering these things and the apparent lack of solutions, I was struck for the first time in my walk with a longing for the return of Christ.  I do not have an answer for the water crisis or the evil of extreme poverty, but when He comes back there will be no more water crisis, food crisis, or any suffering.  I felt a longing to end the suffering.  I do not suffer.  I do not long for His return so that my situation will change.  I did long for Him to come and end the suffering of so many who are totally powerless to make their situations better.  I long for them to no longer be hungry and thirsty.  I can do what I can for it, but what I have to offer is so small and can only impact such a small little corner of the problem.  He, on the other hand, can end it all and bring peace, perfection, beauty and restoration.  So, in my heart, I do long for Him to come and set things right, to fight for those who are oppressed and enslaved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I even articulated this in a manner which can be understood, but here it is. Thanks for reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-4933993318526261489?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/4933993318526261489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/waiting-for-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4933993318526261489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4933993318526261489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/08/waiting-for-god.html' title='Waiting for God'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3720977886065496062</id><published>2010-07-31T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T07:02:18.593-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='restoration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Reversing Roles</title><content type='html'>And again, it has been a bit since I had anything to say.  I have been in the process of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt;-cluttering my life.  Getting the clutter out will allow time to write and to create.  I am finally reaching a place in my life that I really get it that doing more doesn't make me important.  Being busy doesn't necessarily mean we are productive and being productive is not the point in this life.  It is not productive to have a long lingering dinner with friends enjoying food and fellowship, but it is more the point than running ourselves crazy building a kingdom for ourselves that will be burning up in the end and amount to nothing.  I am learning to stop and take time to take in the moments, enjoy friends, laugh with my family, taste the flavor of the food God provides for me, sit in His presence and enjoy just being there with no agenda but to enjoy my Creator.  How much we could learn if we would stop and take life in like a child.  Children are content to just sit with us (sometimes) with no agenda or need to be productive.  They just want to be where we are.  They enjoy the silly simple pleasures of life like running barefoot through the grass, or playing in the rain; they enjoy the flavor of food and don't worry about how many calories or fat is has.  If we could just simplify our life and be more intentional about not letting the world squeeze into a mold, give us an identity or tell us what to value.  I am hoping as I continue to make space in my life that I will write and create more.  I want to use the gifts God gave me and not waste them b/c my life is too busy to develop them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bike ride was one of the things that needed to go.  There was a such a process in getting me to the place that I could give it up.  I am such a driven person and really wired to finish what I start.  It is very hard for me to walk away from a task until it is finished.  So giving up the ride was kind of a wrestling match for me.  I was pretty consumed with riding for a few months.  I spent a great deal of time on my bike and a another good chunk of energy focused on planning how to get my miles in.  I didn't really realize who much pressure was on me until it was removed.  I don't necessarily thing that the cycling was a bad thing innately; I don't even think it was an idol.  It just took too much of the little bit of time I have and didn't allow me to focus enough on the things that should be my priority right now.  I am reading a Oswald Chambers book on the Sermon on the Mount.  One of the things it said was that giving up sin is one thing, but the challenge comes when we are asked to give up good things for Him.  Cycling is not a bad thing, but, when asked to give it up then I reach a cross road.  If I choose not to give it up, then it becomes bad b/c it is an idol b/c I choose it over obedience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the last few weeks, my husband and I have been listening to a lot more sermons on our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ipods&lt;/span&gt;.  We were listening to a series by Matt Chandler of the Village Church called The Path.  We were both challenged in many different ways.  It was a tremendous series which caused us to evaluate things and see the need for some changes.  One of the main changes that we really as a couple agreed on was a reversal of roles.  As most anyone can see, in our marriage, I pretty much run the shop.  I do what I want to do and he backs me up.  He doesn't really challenge me much and he doesn't really lead or make many decisions.  We both see and take our responsibility in this situation.  (This situation seems to be pretty common place in our society, but God will have to deal with everyone else; it's not my place.)  As I have shared this story with my different circles of friends, the sentiment has been almost unanimous, "Us too."  I take responsibility for taking charge and he takes responsibility for being passive and not leading or challenging me.  We are moving toward reversing things, but it will probably be a journey for both of us.  We may fall back into the pattern at times as it is the norm and comfortable for us, but God will be faithful to challenge us when we are falling back into comfort.  Soon after this discussion my husband and I had, we got to put feet to our words.  He told me that he did not think I should do the ride.  Right at that moment, I had a choice to makes; I believe that it was a defining moment for me.  Would we move toward the new order of things or would I be willful and push us back into the old way of functioning.  I made the right choice.  This choice was not too hard for me, but I am sure the tests and choices will get more challenging.  I feel so much peace in my decision.  I don't feel the need to analyze and second guess my choice.  I didn't make the decision to drop the ride.  I made the decision to defer to the wisdom of my husband and obey him.  I believe in God's order of things, I will never be wrong for choosing to submit to my husband.  God will always honor that choice and the gentle heart of obedience.   I also feel more peaceful because I don't feel the pressure to make all the decisions and make everything work out.  While my husband and I are partners in this life and equal, ultimately the responsibility falls on his shoulders.  That is a wonderful relief to me.  I guess it's b/c I have been shouldering responsibility that is not mine to shoulder.  I I used to it liberated me to take charge b/c I can be in charge and make my own decisions, but that is not true liberation.  It is bondage to pressure that God did not create me to carry.  True liberation is being able to trust my husband to lead and have our families best interest at heart and being able to trust that God is able to speak to my husband and guide him and redeem any mistakes.  The opposite of faith and trust is control and manipulation.  Faith and trust lead to life and peace; control and manipulation lead to stress, fear and contentions.  The word says that perfect love casts out all fear.  That can be applied to receiving and believing in God's love for me and in my husbands love for me.  Neither of them would want to harm me.  When I am tempted to doubt my husband and be afraid he won't make the right decision, I need to remind myself to trust God in my husband; I need to trust that as God can speak to me and redirect me, He can do the same for me husband.  In that is peace.  To be honest, though, much of my controlling the house has less to do with not trusting Larry to make the right decision and more to do with me just wanting to have my way.  I have been a pretty willful person my whole life and so that will not die easily, but one day at a time I will choose to commit my will to God and ask Him to give me that ability to be gentle, trusting and submissive.  I was watching a documentary about the widows in Afghanistan one day and one of the women made a profound statement that I have never forgotten and have meditated upon every since.  She said they had a saying in Afghanistan which says, "A husband is shade."  She said, "He is a covering to keep out the sun and protect."  I think that is something that we, in our society have missed.  Our husbands are our protectors, and shade to us, if we will let them be.  Without shade we are subject to the elements and predators.  I want to lean upon my husband and let him be my shade. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have always had a really great marriage.  He is absolutely my favorite person on the face of this planet.  He is my best friend and there is literally no one I would rather spend time with.  There is commitment, passion, and stability between us.  I have a feeling, though, that this leg of the journey we are embarking on is going to give us depth like we never thought possible.  I think that things are just going to be even better.  It is a great thing to be on the same page about life, where we are going and how we intend to get there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3720977886065496062?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3720977886065496062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/07/reversing-roles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3720977886065496062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3720977886065496062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/07/reversing-roles.html' title='Reversing Roles'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-6642209884091361774</id><published>2010-06-29T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T12:49:32.290-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fierce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>I know... I have been so bad about writing</title><content type='html'>I really have so much to say and I want to say it so badly.  It just took longer than I thought it would to settle into a rhythm of life after starting my job.  I moved; then I started my job and I started training for my 100 mile ride.  It just took me the last 3 months to develop a rhythm to this new schedule.  I wanted it to happen faster, but it really took this long.  I guess in retrospect, 3 months is not so long to settle after having a couple of major life changes.  I have had so many things rattling around in me, but I just haven't been able to find time to let them out.  I not only need the time, I also need the right environment with which to release it.  I can't really get in the writing mind set of there is chaos around me.  I am going to try to set some time at least once a week to write during the summer.  I hope that once the children go back to school in the fall I can devote more time to writing during their school day.  I also hope to be able to spend more time creating things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I am also hoping to slow my pace of life. I find myself always in a hurry, always over committed, never able to just slow down and enjoy the moment.  I have always been that way.  My brain is always going ninety to nothing;  I am onto the next task before I am even done with the task I am currently tending to.  I see life as a never ending task list.  Even those things that I should enjoy are just tasks to be checked off.  Busy, busy, busy!!  I have known this is a problem for a long time and have attempted at times to slow down, but never with success.  I know part of it is our culture;  if you free up time it immediately creates a time vacuum and something else takes its place.  That is not an excuse, though.  We are supposed to go against the current of society.  Jesus calls us to a different kind of life.  He was never in a hurry!  Fortunately, those things He calls us to, he also helps us to do.  I am praying over it and reading and meditating about scriptures that encourage me to slow down, be at peace, and rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What has prompted this new found desire to slow down?" you may ask.  Our pastor preached this weekend on this very thing and I felt like he was preaching directly at me.  I am so tired; I am so rushed.  I felt a sigh within my soul listening to the sermon.  It's like inside I was saying, "yes, this is what I need."  Almost like I needed permission to realize that I needed to slow down.  I don't even take time to enjoy the days and the moments that I am given.  I almost think the only way to do that would be to take my family totally out of the race, move to some other country and be missionaries.  No, I am not planning to move off right now, but I am seeking God's hand, wisdom and the ability to slow down and not cave under the pressure to continue pushing so hard.  Mark said that we all live daily in the fight or flight state of being.  This is so true for me and I have made tremendous progress.  I am in fight or flight now, so I don't know what you would call where I used to be.  I was in a constant state of panicked motion.  It was as if a bull dozier was behind me going 90 miles an hour and if I slowed down it would run me over.  At one point during the sermon I said to my brother, "I never sit still b/c when I sit still I fall asleep."  To which he replied, "Maybe if you sat still a little more often, you would get to the point that you did not fall asleep."  Meaning if I could slow down over all, I wouldn't be so exhausted that sitting still induced sleep.  I think for the first time in my life I am in the place where I can agree with him about that.  He has tried many times to get me to see this point and I have never been in the place to be able to say, "you know, I think you may be right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recently been trying to think about life from this perspective, "If I found out I had cancer, (something that I seem to be seeing a lot around me right now), what would I cut out?  What would I want to spend my time doing?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put more pressure on myself than I would ever put on anyone else.  I feel like I have to make the most of every moment that I have.  Part of that is that I wasted so many years being destructive and doing drugs.  I have so many things I want to experience.  I feel bad if I take a whole day and do nothing, but watch movies and nap.  I hate to feel like I have wasted a whole day.  That is why I resent having to sleep.  I feel like it is such a huge waste of time.  There are so many other things I would rather be doing.  That time could be used to  accomplish so much more.  That might be exactly the place I need to look at first.  What is the root of the belief that sleeping is a waste of time?  God says that rest is good; that we should rest in peace.  I need to reprogram myself to believe that rest and sleep are good.  I think that we are probably so much more productive when we don't cram every moment with tasks and activities.  When we can disengage and relax there is probably better focus and passion to the things we do.  I am only guessing b/c I don't disengage very well.  I hope that I can learn to disengage and then be able to confirm that theory is in fact true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just seems the older I get that faster my life goes by.  I don't stop to savor any of it.  I don't savor meals, time with friends, time with my family, opportunities to play games.  I don't really stop to think about the moments with my children that are passing me by.  I only get to live this day one time.  I only get to see them in this moment from this perspective one time.  Do I stop and take time to breath in the moment?  NO!!  Ally will only be in our house a few more years, then she will move out and start her own family.  Experience tells me that it is at that point we learn to slow down and enjoy the moments.  Why do we have to get grand children to be able to embrace the moments children give us?  We miss those moments with our children and grand children get the best of us.  Stephen is a young man and quickly growing into man hood.  When these moments are over, I will long for the day that he leans over and licks my face or punches my arm.  Why do I find it so infuriating right now.  He loves me and wants to show me affection in his way.  Chloe is quickly approaching the awkward teenage years.  If I don't learn to love her,  speak softly to her and experience her on her terms, then I won't even be able to help her through the awkward years b/c she will have shut me out by then.  Chloe is my baby.   I don't have another one after her.  As she grows up, I am experiencing some of these things for the last time.  I pray that this time, I can take this wake up call to slow down serious enough that I can actually reorient my life and apply some breaks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like life is going by really so slow at some point then without you realizing it life begins to fly by at a dizzying warp speed.  Years pass and they seem like days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-6642209884091361774?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/6642209884091361774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-know-i-have-been-so-bad-about-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6642209884091361774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6642209884091361774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-know-i-have-been-so-bad-about-writing.html' title='I know... I have been so bad about writing'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-6238536880555609857</id><published>2010-05-14T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T17:40:38.168-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starbucks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brokenness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='struggle'/><title type='text'>Yeah, it has been a really long time...</title><content type='html'>I know.  Things have been so super busy adjusting to my new part time job and learning to balance everything.  I really didn't think that adding a part time job would throw things into such upheaval, but it has. This week I am finally starting to feel things level out after a month, but up to this week I just couldn't seem to find equilibrium in my daily life.  As I get used to getting up earlier than I really care to admit (I am an early riser, but the time I have to get up to be ready to open Starbucks is ridiculous.) and as the school year comes to an end, I hope to have time to write on my blog again and to be creative.  This week is the first week I have not felt totally out of sorts.  I know that when you make a change it takes a while for everything to shift and find balance; it just took longer than I was hoping it would.  Adding the 5 hours of work to my day caused me to have to reassess priorities and rearrange things.  Since I am a person who craves order and consistency it has been a little disconcerting to try and find a new rhythm.  I have prayed every day about it and although I was very uncomfortable during the shift process, I knew that God would show me how to find a new rhythm.  I knew that He had asked me to take the job with Starbucks and that He was leading me into a new leg of my journey so I knew He would help me find balance and a new rhythm.  I also had a sneaking suspicion that being flexible and diligent enough to find a new balance was actually part of the point in all of this.  So as I struggled and wrestled and prayed I also tried to look with eyes of faith knowing that no matter what things look like or how I felt, God was in control and He was still busy working in my life to make me more like Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am accustomed to having great deal of time to spend talking to God and studying in the morning.  I know that time with God does not necessarily have to be in the morning, but it has been a rhythm in my life for a really long time.   Being the creature of habit that I am, losing my usual way, time and rhythm of life has been kind of difficult and extremely uncomfortable.  The last couple weeks leading up to this week, I have really missed my time with Jesus.  It kind of felt like being married to someone who is gone oversees or something.  I was still in relationship; it was just different and a little distant.  I knew that He was not actually distant, but it sure did feel distant.  I was a little sad and crying out desperately every chance I could for Him to help me find a new rhythm that included being able to spend time with Him in the midst of this crazy schedule.  It did make me very hungry to to seek Him and cry out for His help to find time to be with Him.  To make matters worse, my treadmill went out on me.  That would be the second treadmill that I have killed.  I guess they aren't really made to put a lot of miles on; they are more for sitting in your room hold clothes, because I use mine a lot and it seems to kill them.  I went like two weeks without it.  I was riding my bike, but it is not the same.  Yesterday, one of my friends gave me a treadmill.  She is a wonderful friend.  I guess really Jesus gave me the treadmill.  I just really seem to need that time on the treadmill in the morning.  Nothing else effects me quite like running on the treadmill in the morning does.  I made a very resistant Larry go and pick it up last night.  I have to say that I was giddy getting it into the house.   I actually could not wait to go to sleep so I could wake up and run with Jesus.  I felt so much better today.  I haven't felt like this in several weeks.  I think it must be a combination of things that makes it so beneficial to me.  I believe that it is physiological and spiritual.  Running does something to my brain chemistry that nothing else is able to do.  It is like my antidepressant/ mood stabilizer.  It also does great things for my soul and attitude to have that time to talk to God and process through struggles, responsibilities, goals, etc.  Running puts me in a very receptive mindset.  I am able to work through so many things and get the Lords mind on life, situation, etc.  I don't care what anyone says, that is my place of solitude; that is where God meets me, deals with me, and teaches me.  It doesn't matter if anyone else gets it; that is me and God's place.  It is also interesting that each time I have put a treadmill to death, He sends me another.  So, I run in the morning and I bike in the afternoon.  It works well for me.  I felt so much more balanced, stable, at peace and alive today after my run. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was saying, I am getting used to getting up super early.  I am finding ways to connect with God and I am beginning to develop a new rhythm to my day. I guess some of us are so natural at developing habits and being disciplined that  God has to shake us up and disrupt our order to do a new work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my new job.  It is such a blessing to be able to work early in the morning and be able to get off by 10 or 11 am so that I have the whole rest of the day to spend with my children and friends.  I love that I get to see so many of the same people every morning and build a relationship with them.  It is so great to be able to learn to genuinely care about them and connect with them.  I get the biggest kick out of remembering their drink and remembering their names.  I absolutely love that I get to work with such a wonderful friend as my boss.  She is so amazing and teaches me so much about loving people and serving each and every one of them. I really, really love my job and feel like it is such a blessing in my life.  I say all that to lead into the process of taking the job.  I was so, so, so resistant to taking it. I really did not want to take it.  And that resistance was all about my ego.  I really did not see Starbucks as a real job;  even after I knew that God wanted me to take it, I was really put off by the idea.  I was willing to take the job, but only b/c I love Jesus and do not want to disobey Him.  I also know that anything God asks us to do is a blessing and is for our good.  I just kept thinking, "I am a makeup artist and I have a hair license; I have a college degree and you want me to make coffee.  What am I going to do when people who know me come in and see me?"  I was so concerned about how it would effect my "status" in the mind of people.  I was concerned about being looked down on and treated like others were better than me.  I was kind of ashamed of going to work at "Starbucks".  There are still times that I struggle with telling certain people, especially people in the hair and makeup industry.  How terrible that I felt and sometimes still feel that way.  Why would I be ashamed of obeying God.  Why does it matter what people think about me and my job?  Really the only thing that should matter is "Am I obeying God; is He pleased with where I am working?"  My status in the world or among peers really means nothing when compared with His love and what He thinks about me.  After all the struggle, I love my job.  I love the people I work with and get to interact with every day.  I love knowing that God is still at work in my life changing me and using me.  And the truth of the matter is that anyone who looks down on me has a problem they need to deal with.  It really has nothing to do with me and does not reflect on me at all.  What reflects on me is that I choose to obey even when it is difficult and not glamorous.  The most important thing is that God asked me to do something and it turned out that when I obeyed, I loved it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to be able to write more frequently again now.  I have quite a build up of thoughts, lessons and experiences to pour out again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-6238536880555609857?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/6238536880555609857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/05/yeah-it-has-been-really-long-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6238536880555609857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/6238536880555609857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/05/yeah-it-has-been-really-long-time.html' title='Yeah, it has been a really long time...'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3576748415642563055</id><published>2010-04-17T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T18:15:38.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Copied post</title><content type='html'>This was really really good and I couldn't figure out any other way to share it with people than to copy and repost.  The credit for this post goes to this link &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.internetmonk.com/archive/our-dangerous-god"&gt;http://www.internetmonk.com/archive/our-dangerous-god &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="headline"&gt;         &lt;div class="headlineleft"&gt;           &lt;h1&gt;Our Dangerous God&lt;/h1&gt;           &lt;/div&gt;                 &lt;/div&gt;                                &lt;div class="date"&gt;            &lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="datehead"&gt;April 14, 2010 by &lt;a href="http://www.internetmonk.com/archive/author/jeffdunn/" title="Posts by Jeff Dunn"&gt;Jeff Dunn&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;                       &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.internetmonk.com/wp-content/uploads/imgres-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img class="alignright size-full wp-image-6563" title="imgres-1" src="http://www.internetmonk.com/wp-content/uploads/imgres-1.jpeg" alt="" height="101" width="118" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Two and a half years years ago a friend of mine stepped forward in our Sunday morning service to share a message he had wrestled with for weeks. It was not a message he was excited to share, but knew that God was compelling him to do so. The word he shared that morning changed my life. God used this as a sledgehammer to shatter all that I thought was good and right in my life. This was the Master Potter taking the clay into his hand, squashing it, and starting over. The Potter is not finished with me yet–will he ever be before the resurrection?–and this word continues to be a tool he is using to shape me.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We often repeat the line that “Aslan is not a safe lion.” Of course he’s not. But how many of us actually want to encounter Aslan in all of his un-safeness? Aren’t we really more comfortable just reading about lions, then putting the book away where it can’t find us, claw us, scar us? We are much more at home with a safe God–one who can be contained in Seven Secrets or Five Principles. One who wants to do nice things for us all day long, like keep the rain away while we hang out the wash. Do any of us really–&lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt;–want to meet God, as he knows himself to be, face-to-face? Do we want to hug a God who is an all-consuming fire?&lt;span id="more-6548"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;God, it seems, has very little interest in making things comfortable and nice for us. Instead, he is intent on our freedom. As Robert Capon puts it, “What would you do with freedom if you had it?”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Here is the word shared in October of 2007 by Joe Spann to a congregation in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Be forewarned: If you truly embrace this, your world will be unmade. I don’t say that lightly. Mine has been. Freedom is a very scary and dangerous thing.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“There seems to be a growing feeling that God is ok with making us uncomfortable.  In fact, I think He plans to. We worship a dangerous God and He is coming to threaten every area of your life.  God is a loving God, do not be mistaken about that.  His love, however, is unlike any human love; its chief concern is not to make you comfortable, but to make you free and to be free is dangerous and the act of making us free is dangerous.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“I am sensing specifically the danger of the nearness of God.  He is waiting in places you do not expect to approach you in ways that you think God shouldn’t and wouldn’t approach you. He is about to move in a way that will not allow Him to be a household idol on your mantel that you cherish and pass down to your children.  Your “here and now” will be changed by His presence.  If you want safety, then go back to your idols.  They get their name from you, they don’t change your name, they don’t move without your leave, and they will never threaten your comfort.  If you want safety, then go back to your idols but do not profess to worship the Creator of the Universe, because He will not be counted among your idols.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“He is about to become dangerous to your everyday trappings, dangerous to your comfort, dangerous to your retirement plan, dangerous to your schedule, dangerous to your social standing, dangerous to your secrets, and dangerous to your religion. The good news is, He is also dangerous to your limits, dangerous to your fear, dangerous to your addictions, dangerous to your sickness, dangerous to your unforgiveness, dangerous to the chains that bind you – chains that you have become way too comfortable with.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“The end result of this is that He wants to make &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; dangerous again; dangerous to your neighbors’ bondage, dangerous to the pain in the people around you, dangerous to the generations of abuse and pain in your family and the families you know, dangerous to the culture you are in every single day.  And He wants to make &lt;em&gt;us&lt;/em&gt; dangerous again.  Dangerous to our neighborhoods, dangerous to our friends, dangerous to our culture, dangerous to the kingdom of darkness.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“God is about to overtake us, to leap from the shadows and subdue us, to wrestle us to the ground and change our names, and in the process to injure us forever.  We will never be the same.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“Now, I grieve.  I grieve because I am a rich young ruler and I am not so sure that I want this.  I want it from a distance, but to actually be in the Presence of the un-nameable God seems increasingly dangerous.  So many of us are rich young rulers.  We have our problems solved, our needs met.  If they aren’t met at any given moment, an alternative other than God is there to meet them.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“It will truly cost us everything to follow Him.  The fact that we have to ‘lose our lives to find them’ has been relegated to a cliché and sapped of its power for most of us.  God is about to move in a way that will no longer allow that to be a cliché for you.  That means that both the losing and the finding will be at a much deeper and more meaningful level.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;“So what should be our response to this?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brutal honesty – you may find yourself in situations in the future where you are not sure if it is God dealing with you or not because He has never dealt with you like this before.  The best response is an honest one.  Don’t pretend that you know exactly what to say to God – just be honest.  But be prepared to wrestle all-night if you must.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you respond honestly, then God’s work in you will be completed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Recognize that He is a dangerous God.  Look for the God-boxes that you have built and tear them down.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Commit today to never pray another superstitious or insincere prayer. Your pretense dishonors Him and He doesn’t want it from you anymore.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He wants you to have a dangerous relationship with Him.  Tell Him all the things you’ve always been afraid to say to God.  Meet Him where you are and reveal yourself to Him in ways that you never have.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;p&gt;“This seems severe, and I want so badly to say something to make it more palatable.  But I can’t.  He comes now, and He comes in force, and He comes to threaten us, His followers, in every way.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3576748415642563055?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3576748415642563055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/04/copied-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3576748415642563055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3576748415642563055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/04/copied-post.html' title='Copied post'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-4493905338661440340</id><published>2010-04-03T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T15:18:04.532-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fierce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>Little Easter Revelation</title><content type='html'>God has been working on this for a couple of days, but this morning He really drove the point home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of my friends know of the ongoing drama of the "drug house" that we moved into.  We have had several visitors that were hoping to find the former tenants.  To explain the latest piece of the puzzle, I have to rewind to right before we moved in.  A new kid started at my daughter's place of work.  Through the course of conversation they figured out that he had just moved out of the house we were living in.  It was a strangest sort of "coincidence".  Then it got complicated as his apparently mentally ill girl friend decided that Ally was trying to steal her boyfriend. Ridiculous!  She began calling repeatedly and hanging up.  She would do this for hours straight, literally call hang up and immediately call again.  Ally ended up on the phone with her some time at the beginning of this; the girl had been screaming at her boyfriend and asked to speak with Ally.  When the girl accused Ally, Ally just laughed, said "Don't flatter yourself, I have a boyfriend and I have no interest in your boyfriend," then hung up.  The calling went on and on.  When Ally would answer the girl would call her a bitch or worse.  Finally, the place of employment fired the boy and pressed charges on the girl.  I was not too concerned about the matter, until she showed up at our house.  We realized that they knew where we lived b/c they lived here before us.  They also know where Ally works and leave after 10 pm on most nights.  By God's grace, the two showed up when Ally, my mother and I were gone.  Only Larry (my husband), Chloe (my youngest) and Larry's brother were home.  I have to be honest, I would have taken that girl out and asked Jesus to forgive me later.  Call it fleshly instinct, mother's instinct, or whatever.  I am a short somewhat tiny girl, but I am strong and I lived on the streets almost 20 years ago.  In case you aren't aware, I am not someone you want to really tangle with.  Thankfully, I am generally a peace loving hippie type.  Anyone who knows me at all, knows I just want everyone to get along and love each other, but deep inside of me that homeless punk girl still lives.  I would have shown her crazy like she has never seen.  She probably would have been horizontal before she even realized that I have made a move toward her.  My husband said,"If I would have thought about it, I would have told her that Ally's mom used to be homeless and she is crazy as a loon."  With my rooster hair and my sleeve,I am sure she might have been a little intimidated when she saw me.  I am not really what most people expect when you say mom.  Needless to say, I was livid.  I was ready to kick that girl into next week.  I did not care about being a Christian, or living a crucified life at all.  She talked smack to Larry, who refused to engage her.  He just kept saying "I don't care what you have to say about her, you better leave my daughter alone; I don't play games."  He just kept repeating it like a broken record, so they finally left.  I am so glad that I was not home.  I would have reacted and probably landed myself in jail in the process. &lt;br /&gt;By the next morning God was already at work in my heart.  As I ran, I realized that I could not hate the girl or be angry at her.  I had to pray for her.  She was me.  I was crazy jealous like that.  I was a nut case before Jesus turned me into a pecan pie.  I would have totally gone to some poor girls house and yelled at her.  I actually would have probably started beating on her.  How sad, b/c Ally really didn't do anything.  She really" loves" her boyfriend; whatever that means at 17.  But she does care about him and has no interest in this other kid.  But had I been the girl I wouldn't have been reasonable either; I would have beaten up an innocent girl b/c I was threatened by her.  I started praying for her and the girl with the rotten teeth to come to the Kingdom.  I prayed for the Spirit to go ahead and prepare the way and make their hearts open to the gospel and for God to send authentic Christians into their lives to love them and show them the way home, but I was still angry about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed the next day for the whole crew, dad, mom, son (boyfriend), girl friend, and the girl with the rotten teeth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this morning as I ran and prayed, and I prayed for them b/c I committed in my heart to pray for them something deeper happened.  I saw the whole thing in light of the last day, when we stand before the Lord.  I saw the situation outside of my small little story and say it in light of the much bigger story being told.  The story that began before I was born and will still, probably, be being told when I am gone.  The story that I am in for only a moment; our time here is like the flicker of a lightning bug.  We forget that next to eternity and even history, our time here on earth is so fleeting.  I saw a much bigger story that I am blessed to be able to have minute in.  All this "coincidence" could not possibly just be coincidence.  Seriously, what are the chances of the boy being hired at my daughters place of employment.  Of all the places, of all the stores in a chain, with the girl who is moving into his house, a house where drugs were dealt.  No chance in my mind that this was a coincidental chain of events.  God was in the middle of the whole big mess.  He orchestrated the whole thing.  He chose this house for us.  He decided that we would move into a former drug house.  The former drug addict, in a house that will quite possibly see many former customers at it's door.  The crazy girl friend deciding she hated Ally and stalking her.  God has a plan.  He knows my heart and He knows what I do when someone does something to me.  I get angry for a minute, then I begin to pray.  And when I say I am praying for someone it is not with pretense.  I am not one of those who says they will pray then walks away and forgets.  If I say I am praying, you can take it to the bank.  Once you get on my list, you will be there for a while.  As a matter of fact, I have a really hard time removing people once they are on.  My list just keeps getting longer and longer.  Call it a twitch.  I feel very responsible for the people on my list of prayer.  Not responsible to fix them or something, but responsible to lift them up every morning.  I am a creature of rhythm and habit.  I pray every day, like I breath and eat.  I am not trying to say I am something special or spiritual, or whatever.  I am just stating that prayer is as much a part of my life as eating is.  It is something I spend a lot of time doing every day.  God has given me a gift of being able to develop habits and rhythms very easily and in that He has made prayer a very rhythmic part of my life.  So, He purposefully, brought this situation and these people into our lives b/c He has them in mind for the Kingdom.  He wants them to come into the Family of God, so He has assigned me to them to seek His face for them.  I don't know everything about prayer; as a matter of fact, I don't know much about prayer except that it works, it is a mystery and it is something that beats inside me like my heart.  So, I have no doubt that these people are coming to know God b/c I have been assigned like a prayer marine to storm the gates of hell until the shackles fall off of their hands and feet and they are welcomed into the arms of the one who died for them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no coincidence only Providence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when I read my devotional for this morning, God drove it home for good measure.  Luke 23:34 says, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do."  Jesus prayed for all those around Him.  He prayed for the religious leaders, the Romans, the disciples who abandoned Him; he prayed for all of humanity, including this family who used to live in this house.  If He can pray, "Father, forgive them, in regards to the ones who nailed Him to the tree, how can I do anything less for the girl who just yelled at my daughter.  Haven't we all done at least that, yelled at someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am quite sure that God probably raised up stealth bombers to pray for me.  There is no telling how many people prayed for me to come into the Kingdom.  I am so grateful that He loves me enough to assign people to pray for me.  What a beautiful day it was on earth and in eternity when those prayers found fulfillment.  What an amazing day when the "the girl with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mohawk&lt;/span&gt;" came to Jesus.  Who know someone may have prayed for me just like that, just like I pray for the girl with the rotten teeth.  I stole from so many people and did so many terrible things, who knows, God may have directed my destructive behavior to one of His prayer warrior just b/c He know, like He knew with me, that they would pray for me.  What a good and gracious God we serve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to ask for all of my friends and followers to pray diligently for these individuals.  God has eyes for them.  Jesus loves them and we have no idea what amazing works God has for them to do. &lt;br /&gt;Ephesians 2:1-10&lt;br /&gt;And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins, in which you once walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience, among whom also we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, just s the others.  But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved) and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.  FOR BY GRACE YOU HAVE BEEN SAVED THROUGH FAITH, AND THAT NOT OF YOURSELVES; IT IS THE GIFT OF GOD, NOT OF WORKS, LEST ANYONE SHOULD BOAST.  FOR WE ARE HIS WORKMANSHIP, CREATED IN CHRIST JESUS FOR GOOD WORKS, WHICH GOD PREPARED BEFOREHAND THAT WE SHOULD WALK IN THEM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what works He has for them to do.  Pray for them.  J and T (mom and dad), T and girlfriend, and girl with rotten teeth.  I don't want to put their names out of respect for them.  Please pray diligently for them.  The enemy has them and wants to keep them, but we must pray for them and fight for their salvation.  I don't want a pretense of prayer, but I pray that God puts passion and love in your heart for them and compassion for the suffering they are undergoing at the hand of a very cruel master.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am praying for myself as well.  I pray that God will break my heart and fill me with His Spirit, love and compassion so that if I am faced with them I will share my story and how Jesus changed my life in a way that is authentic and loving and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;impactful&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a beautiful Resurrection gift.  I am so glad that God does these things.  He is so good to me and I love Him with all my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-4493905338661440340?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/4493905338661440340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/04/little-easter-revelation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4493905338661440340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4493905338661440340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/04/little-easter-revelation.html' title='Little Easter Revelation'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-5410723347465593528</id><published>2010-03-24T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T09:18:38.693-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prayer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brokenness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>When God shows you your heart</title><content type='html'>God has the most unpleasant way of showing me what is really in my heart.  I am so glad that He does it, but it is usually pretty disconcerting.  We think we have come so far, which I definitely have, but lest I get proud God is so faithful to show me how far I still have to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, as I ran, there was a knock on the door.  It was pretty early, 830&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;.  I felt, at first, a little annoyed thinking it must be Ally needing in after locking her keys in the car.  First, for those that do not know, the house I recently moved into used to be a drug house.  Apparently a lot of Chrystal Methamphetamine came out of this house.  The narcotics officers came to see the first week I was here.  They did not realize that the house had been vacated and was now inhabited by a family that did not sell or even do drugs.  We have only had knocks on our door twice so far that were for the previous tenants.  I was kind of expecting a lot more of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any way, on with my story.  As I opened the door I say a youngish girl, with pretty rotten teeth (clue number one that you are dealing with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Meth&lt;/span&gt;, for real).  She asked for Tracy, the lady I have already been informed was one of the main players in this little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Meth&lt;/span&gt; drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I, haughtily stated, "They don't live here any more, we do." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which she replied, "Oh.  I love your hair!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I responded, "Thanks, there are no more drugs here and no more drugs dealers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," she said and walked off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so proud of myself and feeling quite amused with my quit witted response.  I went to inform my husband with a grin on my face.  Then I got back on my treadmill, where as most everyone who follows this blog knows I run and pray every morning for longer than I really want to admit to most people b/c I know they think I am crazy when they here how long I actually run every day.  I enjoyed my amusement of myself for about 60 seconds on my treadmill before God started gently talking to me about what I had just done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed last Sundays church service b/c I was sick as was the whole family.  I like to keep up with the sermons b/c Mark (our teaching pastor) is spending this year going methodically through I Corinthians.  I didn't want to miss out.  So I listened to that sermon last night before I went to bed allowing for God to pull from what I had listened to Mark teach last night.  I won't go into the whole sermon, but it was over 2 verses.  The main thing God prodded me with was, "We are the temple of the Holy Spirit and He inhabits us like He once inhabited the physical temple in the Old Testament."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So God says to me, "Are you not the Temple of the Holy Spirit?"  "Do I not inhabit your very being?"  "Was there not someone just standing before you that needs me?"  "My Spirit dwells in you to give you power and to love people."  This girl is obviously held captive by a very harsh slave driver.  I have been addicted to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Meth&lt;/span&gt;; it is relentless; it is like being chained up in a darkness that there is not escape from.  This poor girl with rotten teeth is chained to the gates of hell with chains that she had no idea would hold her so tightly.  She was deceived at some point into willing putting her hands into the shackles that now hold her in an hopeless grasp, a dark, hopeless, painful grasp.  I stood before her with the answer to all the longings in her heart, with the power to set her free.  The only thing I lacked was the compassion to reach into her darkness, take her hand and lead her into the light.  I lacked the heart to care about someone God brought onto my porch.  "Jesus had compassion" is written so many times in the new testament.  Jesus dwells in me and He had compassion on me or I wouldn't be here.  Because He had compassion on me, I am now the Temple of the Holy Spirit.  I have been pondering, chewing on, and trying to digest the idea of taking up my cross daily.  I cry out to God every day to make me a lover and servant of people, to help me take up my cross and here stood before me the opportunity to take up my cross and act like Jesus and I missed it.  I don't even know her name. I didn't even ask her name.  My ego, my pride, the ugly, ugly part of my heart overlooked her need.  Now, I may not have been able to make a difference in her life, but I will never know b/c I didn't even try.  How different could that encounter have been if I had just reached out?  How might things have turned out if I had instead said, "Tracy doesn't live here anymore, but I do.  What is you name?  I would like to pray for you.  Do you know Jesus?"  I will never know if possibly she was desperate enough this morning to hear that someone loves her so much that He died so He could redeem her, walk with her and make her the Temple of the Holy Spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my God, have mercy on me, have mercy on all of us.  Forgive us for not having a heart of compassion and eyes to see the desperate states of so many around us.  Help us to know that we have you dwelling in us and that you dwell in us not so we can walk around glad that we know you while the world around us goes to hell.  Help us to remember that we hold the answers to all of life's problems, questions, and needs.  Forgive us for taking for granted all that you have done in us and all that you have given us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really makes this horrible is I personally know what it is like to be chained up with those chains.  Even in the midst of spending time with God in prayer, my first reaction was pride, arrogance, and lack of compassion.  What an unpleasant realization to have to come to this morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful that God knows our failings and our tendency to do the wrong thing.  I am grateful that He knew that I would react in such a flippant insensitive manner.  He will send another.  As a matter of fact, I began to pray for her as soon as He had taken me to task.  I prayed for Him to send godly, authentic, sincere individuals into her life to show her the way home.  I prayed the he would life the veil off of her heart and give her eyes to see the truth and that He would not let the enemy blind her to the truth of the Gospel.  I added her to my prayer list, "the girl with rotten teeth".  He will send someone to her and He will be faithful to remind me to pray for her.  I may not be able to be the one who takes her hand and leads her out of darkness (my loss, truly), but God, in His grace and mercy will allow me to participate in her life by praying for her.  I have repented and so am no longer guilty of that sin, but I have learned a lesson; I have seen my heart and I did not like what I saw.  I will not beat up on my self and continue to feel guilty, but I will pray diligently that God will change my heart and not let me do that again.  He is so good that He would show me, b/c we do not work on what we do not see.  If we are not aware that we need to change, we don't seek Him to change us.  What an amazing and gracious God we serve that He does not let us be complacent.  "He who began a good work in us, will be faithful to complete it til the day of Christ." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am filled with the Holy Spirit and He gives me power to love, impact and care.  We should be so finely tuned and aware that He is in us and He leads those in need to our paths.  If we will just open our eyes to see the need and realize that we have the answer, if we could only have compassion, what could we do in this world.  Why has the church become the laughing stock of the world; why is the church so impotent that we hardly change any place we are?  It is b/c we don't love.  We don't see that every person we pass each day was created in the image of God and is one that He died for.  Lord, give us eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to care.  How many times do we walk by someone who desperately needs what we have and we don't have to heart to see it and care enough to share, to reach our hands out? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even just walk by, God brought her to my door and I looked the other way.  Change my heart o God!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to share; I hope that my harsh lesson opens the doors of your hearts so you can learn from me and maybe do better in the face of the test than I did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-5410723347465593528?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/5410723347465593528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-god-shows-you-your-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/5410723347465593528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/5410723347465593528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-god-shows-you-your-heart.html' title='When God shows you your heart'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-5605566442421877344</id><published>2010-03-23T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T16:47:25.369-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>Its been a hard couple weeks</title><content type='html'>It has been a while since I wrote in my blog.  It has seemed to me like someone has had their finger on a fast forward button in regard to my life.  I have been so busy and had to go so many places in the last couple weeks.  I keep looking back at the end of a week and wondering what happened to the week.  I really want to slow down a bit and find a slow motion button.  I need about 48 hours in slow motion I think.  We moved and then it seems like life just sped up.  What seems to happen when I get in this mode is that, when it does slow down, I feel out of sorts.  I keep feeling like surely there is somewhere I need to be or something I need to be doing.  I haven't sewn in probably 4 or 5 weeks, the blog has been neglected for about 3 weeks.  Today, once I confirmed to myself that I really didn't have anywhere I needed to go or anything I needed to do, I decided to write about the last couple weeks.  Then I hope to be able to sit down and be creative for a few minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This last couple weeks I have really been confronted with how temporary life really is.  I have been jarred out of the attitude I tend to walk around with that says bad things don't really come my way.  We have not had health insurance for about close to 6 years.  I just kind of operate with the idea that we will be okay and we are somehow immune to serious illness.  I have had that illusion shattered for me in the last few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First my very good friend was diagnosed with Lymphoma.  I am very sad about it, but I know that we will beat it as a team (her whole huge support group).  Her diagnoses has caused me to re-evaluate my fairytale idea that my family is immune to any kind of sickness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that has really rocked me is losing someone that I once spent a good amount of time with.  My friend Charla passed away this last Wednesday/Thursday.  We were friends and she was one of the most accepting and wonderful people I have met.  She had many long term health problems so I guess we all knew that it was possible that she could leave us at any moment, but I don't think anyone was really expecting it.  I know she just seemed to me like the cat with more than nine lives.  She would have problems, but she just kept kicking.  B/c I didn't really expect her to go any time soon, I was really bad about putting off going to see her for a visit.  Weeks turned into months, turned into over a year.  I would feel in my heart that I should go see her, but I never stopped and took the time.  It's like God would whisper to me, "Hey you should go see Charla."  I would think yeah, I need to go see her, but somehow something else always came up.  I would run into her and she always had a huge hug for me and, more times than not, she would be so happy to see me that she would start to cry.  Over the years, as she got sicker, I found it harder to go see her.  It was so difficult to see someone so sweet and talented and amazing be trapped inside such a broken body.  I just always thought, I'll go tomorrow.  I know that she did not hold it against me and still considered me one of her closest friends.  When I first got the news, I felt so guilty for not having gone to see her more; she had been somewhat home bound for a good while.  I sort of felt like that I had let her and God down b/c I hadn't spent more time with her.  I have since realized that it's not that she needed me to come see her and it is not that I need to feel guilty for not being a "good Christian" and spending time with my friend who "needed" me to come see her.  The truth is that I missed out on being able to have the gift of Charla in my life that last year or so.  God wasn't wanting me to go bless Charla, He was wanting me to be blessed by her.  I have learned a very hard lesson this week.  We have to stop being so busy that we don't love the people in our lives and allow them to love us.  Most of what keeps up busy is stupid and meaningless.  The people are whats important.  I read a book one time that talked about people being the "treasure" we store up in heaven.  When we invest our time and money into people we are putting our priorities in the correct order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been really quite sad over losing Charla.  I am very sad that I did not take better advantage of the time I did have to spend with her.  I feel like I can learn and take away a lesson, though, which makes it a little easier to bare the loss.  I have to weigh my priorities very carefully.  People must always hold the highest weight.  The dishes will always be there; the house will always need to be cleaned.  Running is fun, but I am not sure that I will look back with fondness over running 12 or 13 miles on my treadmill.  I will look fondly back at all the people I have had the opportunity to know, love and be loved by.  I find myself praying these days that God will help me be a better friend and to love people better.  I want to be engaged in the lives around me and be always on the lookout for someone new to love and impact.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-5605566442421877344?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/5605566442421877344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-been-hard-couple-weeks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/5605566442421877344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/5605566442421877344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-been-hard-couple-weeks.html' title='Its been a hard couple weeks'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-8644704538281057720</id><published>2010-03-09T11:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T14:19:26.309-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='salvation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>In the beginning part 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, we are coming up on the best part of the whole story.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Every one's&lt;/span&gt; eager anticipating of the great meeting has me motivated to try and plow through the last of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess we stopped at moving in the guy.  But wait, first.  I just have to say, I love writing this blog and I love sharing my story.  Sometimes, though, I feel so exposed.  Sometimes it hits me that all my darkest secrets are on the World Wide Web for anyone to read.  People that I see everyday and people I have never met know all my secrets.  I mean, I love telling my story, sometimes, though, I just think, you are telling people things that any normal person would keep secret locked away in a vault.  They say that you are only as sick as your secrets and that the power of a secret is in the fact that it is a secret.  So, once they secrets are exposed to the light, it has no power any more.  Don't make too much of this little rant.  I don't regret sharing.  I want to tell the whole world my story b/c it is such an amazing story of God's grace and redemption.  I just sometimes have a moment where I think what an odd thing it is the my blackest deepest moments are in print for all the world to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved in with this guy.  It was kind of an awkward situation b/c I was married to this Squid character (he wasn't dead yet); I was pregnant with Crab's baby, and I was living with this other guy.  At the time, we were really into inhalants.  We would frequently mix them with LSD.  There was a lot of LSD floating around that place.  I had just gotten back from Cali and the LSD was not very strong.  I cannot really remember how long I have been staying there.  I don't think it had been very long.  We took like 6 hits of LSD (for Cali standard at the time, that wasn't much, normally that is quite a bit).  It just so happened this was a point in time when there was really, really strong acid going around.  So we took quite a roller coaster ride, all of us.  The whole night was pretty insane.  I was pretty out of touch.  It wasn't the type of out of touch that I can't see what was really going on now, but at the time things were pretty weird.  I can say, I am not sure why I took so much LSD when I was doing drugs b/c I have very few good trips.  Most of the time, I was miserable.  It caused me mind to be so paranoid and weird.  Everyone used to think I was so cute when I was tripping b/c I would keep one hand in my mouth with a big smile on my face.  I was really actually scared out of my mind most of the time.  I usually thought that Satan was after me or that someone was trying to kill me.  Now tell me, why would someone want to repeatedly put themselves in the position to be that scared, but I did it hundreds of times over my drug career.  I couldn't tell you how many times I did it.  So it was a pretty strange night.  At one point, I kept hearing this strange noise in the living room; we were in the bedroom hanging out.  I thought that my boyfriends room mate was cooking the cat in the microwave (what I really heard was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hippy&lt;/span&gt; beads hanging between the living room and dining room every time some one passed through them- of course I did not realize that until we had come down).  At another point, I became convinced that my best friend and boyfriend thought I had stolen something from them, so I cleaned out my pockets and told them to take anything that belonged to them (of course they looked at me like I had two heads).  Then while laughing I caught sight of one of the boyfriends knives laying beside the bed and was convinced that they were plotting to kill me.  That really freaked me out.  Of course, in my paranoid state I did not share what I was thinking b/c I didn't want them to know I knew what was going on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must share the religious views represented in the house that night to give you a framework of what was about to happen.  I was a proclaimed Atheist (my mom had met Jesus a couple years before and I thought she was crazy).  My best friend was an agnostic.  The boyfriend and his roommate were proclaimed Satanists who like stealing tombstones from the graveyard (they were all over the house).  The boyfriend had been raised a Christian in a Charismatic church and turned away.  I have a sense that he wasn't shown a very authentic Christianity.  Then there was this one guys who claimed to be a Christian. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were trying to just chill and the Christian (who was tripping too, was our LSD dealer and was huffing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;carburetor&lt;/span&gt; cleaner) kept coming in bringing up God.  He is the one who started us on the religious talk.  We all ended up in the living room tripping and huffing every kind of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;huffable&lt;/span&gt; chemical you can imagine.  At one point me and Star were on the porch huffing Glade and watching the "sun rise" only to be told it was 10 pm so whatever we were looking at was not possibly the sun rise.  There was starting fluid we huffed a bit.  Then the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Freon&lt;/span&gt; came out.  Now, lest you forget, I am about 5 months pregnant with Ally at this point.  Thank God, for His grace and mercy, b/c she is perfectly normal, super smart and a tremendous blessing in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all huffing stuff and arguing over religion.  I was calling all of them idiots for believing in anything.  I said, "You guys are stupid, there is no God, no Satan, no heaven, no hell.  You are all going to rot in the ground and feel stupid for believing in all this non sense."  Then I took a huge gulp of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Freon&lt;/span&gt;.  Now, this part of the story must be told in two different perspectives.  The first perspective is mine.  I heard a deep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;guttural&lt;/span&gt; voice come from out of the floor that said, "Go get her boys."  Imagine the voice a movie would give a demon or Satan; that is the voice.  Immediately, I fell through the floor and fell for a couple minutes.  When my feel landed I was in Hell.  I will do my best to describe what I saw, but I have trouble putting it into even verbal words.  There were flames all around me, but they were sort of transparent.  I felt this horrible feeling inside of me that I came to realize after I met Jesus was total separation from God.  Then I realized that there were demons all around me pointing and laughing at me.  I knew that they were mocking me as if to say, "ha!! we tricked you, we got you to not believe in us or God and now you are here and there is nothing you can do about it."  I truly believe that every person that ends up in hell will experience this mockery as the hoards laugh in victory.  Then came what I have called "the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;dooky&lt;/span&gt; monsters".  I know that you probably &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt; ed over that, but when I came out of the hallucination that is the only thing I could come up with to describe them.  They looked like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;sleestaks&lt;/span&gt; from the old school Land of the Lost, only they had glowing grids on them like the old Tron game.  The walked kind of like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;sleestaks&lt;/span&gt; too.  As they got closer to me, they jumped at me and then I was inside of them.  It was like I was inside thick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;gelatin&lt;/span&gt;.  Then I sort of flashed from scene to scene in hell.  I was retarded for a minute, then some other places I don't really remember.  The next think I knew I was back in the trailer, one of the guys had a hold of my arms and the door to the trailer was knocked off the hinges. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the perspective of the observers.  I took my big hit if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Freon&lt;/span&gt;, then suddenly I was screaming bloody murder, stomping on the guy that was laying on the ground beside where I was standing while I tried to get something off of my arms.  The guys said that they had never heard anyone scream like I screamed before. It was blood curdling as they said.  The guys had to grab me to keep me from stomping the other ones face in.  And I was still going so crazy I knocked him into the door and knocked it off of its hinges. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I came too, everyone was staring at me wide eyed  like, "what the hell, just happened?"  I was like, "wow, what the hell was that?"  Then I said, "I don't know what just happened. I don't know where I just was, but I don't think I am an atheist anymore.  I don't know what I believe, but I feel like if I ever end up in that place again, I will not be able to leave it.  and...I don't want to go back."  I was pretty flipped out the rest of the night.  To this day, the group of friends that I hung out with at the time says that I had a bad trip and went religious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the next day, I called my mom.  I knew she would be able to help me understand what had happened b/c she was into this religious thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now stop for a minute and really think about what you have read in the previous parts so you can really see the miracle here and really see the power of God.  Forgive me for becoming an evangelist for a minute.  This is the girl who used to kick in peoples wind shields.   This is the gutter punk who stole and conned, manipulated and attacked people.  This is the drug addict who just wanted to die in a numb overdose.  Hopeless, angry, bitter, broken, and done with life.  Who do you know, that is a hopeless case?  Who have you just given up on?  Who is the person that you have spoken over and over to only to have them reject or even laugh in your face?  What is the situation that you despair has an end, an answer, a hope?  Think about in a minute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't cheat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Stop!!!!!!!!!!! Think!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Find it in your mind!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you can read on.  That girl who wasn't even looking for God, that angry girl who would have stolen your wedding ring right off of you finger, and spit in your face while she did it, God reached from eternity and grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her, and said "here is what you are choosing for eternity, wouldn't you like to have something better?"  There is NO HOPELESS SITUATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  God is the God of Hope.  He is the God of redemption!  He is the only one who can change us.  He is hope for the hopeless, healing for the bleeding, salve for the wounded, peace for the tormented, joy for the sorrowful.  He loves, forgives, and restores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to my story.  I called mom and I said,"mom, I know you don't approve of me doing drugs while I am pregnant, but something happened last night and I need to talk to you about it."  I told her the story and asked her what I should do about it.  I said, "I am not sure I believe in God, but I am afraid to take the chance on going back to that place.  I don't want to spend eternity there."  Her response was the wisdom if our loving Father in Heaven.  I believe that He told her exactly what to say.  She said, "This is what I would tell you to do.  Pray and say, 'God if you are real show yourself to me.' If He is real, He will show you. If He is not, you haven't lost anything and no one ever even has to know that you prayed that prayer."  So I started praying that day.  I prayed it every night for a couple months.  I broke up with the boy and the adoption agency I was talking to about having my baby adopted helped me get an apartment.  I was working the night shift at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Whataburger&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one night when I was about 7 months pregnant, I called me mom and said I want to go to church with you tonight.  It was a Friday night (the church she went to had Friday night services).  She was a little shocked, but said she would pick me up.  I walked into that church that night 7 months pregnant (huge belly), in a tiny little mini dress, Doc Martins, leather jacket, bright red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;mohawk&lt;/span&gt; (standing straight up).  They started doing Praise and Worship and as I looked around everyone seemed so happy and they seemed to be really into the God thing.  Tears kept streaming out of my eyes.  I kept wiping them away and I was so annoyed that they wouldn't stop. (I never cried, ever!!)  I think the tears were b/c I could feel the presence of God around me.  I have no idea what was preached that night.  At the end of the service a man named David Fees stood me up and began to "prophesy" as they called it.  He spoke right to my heart. It was like he cut through every layer of denial, hurt and fear I had and got right into my true heart.  He said to me, "The Lord wants you to know that He loves you and that He has seen your tears."  I still get tears in my eyes and chills every time I say or write that.  I began to weep uncontrollably.  No one had ever loved me.  My mother and father didn't even love me.  She does now and she really did when I was a child as well.  She just didn't know how to love b/c she was so broken and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;devastated&lt;/span&gt; herself.   I had never felt loved by anyone.  I had never felt like anyone valued me at all.  But then David spoke to me and told me that someone did love me and that someone loved me enough to die on a cross for me.  Well, really he died on the cross for all of humanity, but that is a whole theological discussion for another day.  David asked if I wanted to ask Jesus into my heart to be my savior and I did pray and I was never the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My transformation was immediate.  It was like night and day.  There was nothing gradual about any part of it.  I did a 180 and hit the ground running.  I even went to hang out with some of my old friends that night and began to tell them about this Jesus who loved me.  I didn't really know anything at all about Him or the Bible or anything, but I knew that He loved me and I loved him.  I knew that I prayed and I felt His presence.  I had prayed and asked , "if you are real, show yourself to me" and He showed up and He showed himself to me.  I knew I would never be the same.  It didn't matter who believed me or who mocked me.  No one could change my mind Jesus loved me and no one else really mattered to me anymore.  I have never done drugs since that night.  It was actually a few weeks before that night, but I count my drug sobriety date as that night b/c that is when I knew I never wanted drugs again.  Jesus was so much better!!!  That was July 17, 1992.  At that point, I was intending to give the baby up for adoption and they had no idea about the drugs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to stop for now and pick up more on that later.  But for all of you who have been eagerly awaiting this part of the story, there you go.  Thanks for reading. I love to tell this story, it is so good, He is so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-8644704538281057720?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/8644704538281057720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-beginning-part-5.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8644704538281057720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/8644704538281057720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-beginning-part-5.html' title='In the beginning part 5'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-794040693831836321</id><published>2010-03-08T10:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T11:24:04.405-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><title type='text'>In the beginning part 4b</title><content type='html'>Okay, new house, hopefully new rhythm of writing several times a week.  I have received so much positive  feedback the last couple weeks about my blog that I am feeling very encouraged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to write part 4b b/c I feel like I skipped through the California time too fast and missed some details.  I wrote about all the big stuff, but I didn't really talk about the day to day things of California squatter years.  California was such a strange environment for me.  Even though, I wasn't a Christian, I had been raised in the Bible belt and so I had a bible belt set of morals and standards that I wasn't even really aware of.  I would imagine many of the people I know who were raised in Texas probably take for granted the things that we think.  Amongst our group of squatters, which was a pretty big group, there were a couple of the guys who were pimps to girls who were prostitutes.  I remember, even in my state of little or no morals, thinking that it was really strange that everyone treated that like is was normal.  I had never really hung out with any prostitutes.  In Texas there was just kind of a stigma and taboo about the profession.  Now I am not saying what I did, which was trade favors for drugs or just not value my body enough to be dignified, was any better, but the overt way it was promoted just struck me as odd.  The girls would go out and do there thing and come back with money; everyone just treated it as normal.  I even remember them sending the girls out so we could get money for drugs for us.  It was just not something I was used to seeing.  Some of the girls also seemed a little developmentally delayed which I also found odd.  They were either developmentally delayed or had done so many drugs that they had become delayed.    Not sure why I felt to write about that except that the sense of weirdness about the whole things still strikes me as strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also struck by the vast numbers of homeless teens in Hollywood from all over the place.  I met people from all over the US.  Alexandra's dad was from Utah, for example.  We knew of about 20 squatters in Dallas (Young, punk squatters that is).  In Hollywood there were probably close to 500 to 700 spread out all over.  They arrived fresh daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found a squat with about 10 others off of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Melrose&lt;/span&gt; Ave.  I am not sure why all these houses were abandoned.  Up on the Blvd there were tons of kids staying in abandoned warehouses.   I do remember having to sneak in after dark and get back out as soon as we could in the morning.  I remember we used the bathrooms in spite of no water.  The tub and pot were full of human waste.  (Sorry, I know that is gross.)  It smelled horrible.  We used to steal toilet paper from the restaurants on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Melrose&lt;/span&gt;.  There was this food stand where we would all go get food called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Okey&lt;/span&gt; Dogs.  They had the biggest burritos.  I think they were like 2 dollars and would totally fill us up.  We would go out and start pan handling to get enough change for a burrito and some cigarettes.  Then later in the day we would start pan handling for money to drink.  I remember exactly what I would say; I said it over and over so it stayed with me.  "Hey, you got any change you can spare? quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies?"  When they would ask me why, I would say b/c I want to get high, and believe it or not, that worked for me.  People would give me money.  Then we would start drinking or tripping or whatever we decided we wanted to do that day.  That was before I met the guys with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;meth&lt;/span&gt;.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;meth&lt;/span&gt; changed things a lot.  I have always been a speed freak.  Well, once I started doing drugs.  I have spent most of my life feeling like I wanted to sleep.  For whatever reason, I ended up with way more drive than energy.  In recent years that is much better do to change in food choices, exercise and life changes.  But b/c I always felt like sleeping, I did not want to do downers; I wanted speed and a lot of it.  I really never gave much thought to doing too much or overdosing.  I took all I could get my hands on and as fast as I could get it in.  Funny I have always been a person of excess.  I guess one might see excess in my running 10 to 12 miles a day, but I choose to call it discipline.  Anyway, when it came to drinking or doing drugs, I did it hard and fast.  When I was drinking, I could out drink most of the people I knew, including my husband.  I didn't wait for it to hit me; I just hammered it down as fast as I could pour it.  What used to worry my husband was how much I could put away and still walk and talk normally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on one of the last nights I was in Hollywood is the night that the whole Sunset Strip was tripping on LSD.  On the weekends we would all go up to the strip and hang out all night.  We weren't in clubs, just on the streets/ side walks hanging out.  Sometimes the strangest things seemed to go on.  One night we were all sitting and this whole bunch of our punk friends were walking in a line down one side of the street, across and up our side of the street.  They were walking in this big square for a really long time.  I don't know why, but I can remember thinking it was really strange and not having any idea why they were doing it.  I guess that's what we did when we were really high.  So, I was panhandling for money to get some LSD.  I was using my standard panhandling method.  "You got any spare change, quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies?"  These guys asked what I was panhandling to get and I told them LSD. (For those who aren't familiar with drugs, LSD is a hallucinogen.  Depending on how strong it is, it can take you quite far from reality. You never know what you are going to see.)  These guys asked how much I had; I said $4.32 (something pretty close to that-I know you probably are shocked that I can remember the amount. That would by why my husband likes to call me rain man. Because I can remember the strangest details about stuff.)  They said give us what you have and put out your hand.  I did and they poured a hand full of liquid LSD into my hand.  (Liquid is really strong and hits you really fast. It usually only takes a couple drops and I got a LOT!!!)  That night these guys had come down to the strip to distribute a lot of LSD.  They were following the Grateful Dead on tour.  They weren't really looking to make money b/c they were pretty much giving it away.  Several people ended up tripping who did not necessarily want to be tripping.  I heard that dozens of people were tripping on the strip that night and there were people running up and down the strip naked.  It was like something that happens in a movie.  I don't remember much of anything from that night at all.  There are a couple fuzzy moments, but most of it is a complete black out.  I believe I left Hollywood the next day.  My best friend, Star, stayed behind.  I left in a white stolen jeep Cherokee.  It was driven by Pilot and contained me, Crabs (Ally's biological dad), and a girl called Chaos Pony.  Yes, we all had really strange street names.  Mine was Spider. If you have ever wondered why I have all those stupid spider tattoos even thought I am petrified of spiders, that would be why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we took off for Dallas. The clutch went out right outside of California.  Of course no one had the money to get it fixed.  This is where I learned to power shift.  For those of you who don't know what that is, it is how you shift a car that is a standard without a clutch.  Yes, you can drive a standard without a clutch.  It is not good for it and probably not very safe, but we got all the way back to Dallas that way.  We would stop and panhandle for money for gas; we may have done a couple of gas runs too.  You start out in 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; gear and chug a lug to get the car going then you shift with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;rpms&lt;/span&gt;.  The hardest part is getting it going.  I remember that Nirvana had just gotten really big at the time.  We listened to Smells like Teen Spirit all the way back to Dallas.  It was on all the radio stations, so we heard it a lot as we went from station to station across the US.  At some point a long the road I called my mom to tell her I was on the way back.  She let us come and stay.  We didn't tell her we were driving a stolen car.  It is so funny that we managed to get all the way from California to Dallas, Texas in a stolen car that we were having to power shift to drive.  I think it was pretty close to Christmas, too.  I am not sure, but there seems to be some kind of remembrance in me that says it was. I am pretty sure we were in Cali for Thanksgiving.  Mom, let us all stay with her a couple days in her apt.  We smelled super ripe.  She tells me that she had to throw the blankets we used away when like 3 washings did not get our stench out.  I am not exaggerating.  We were nasty.  I personally had 1 set of clothes I wore.  Every once in a while I would go into a gas station and wash out my underwear then wear them around wet.  Man, I cannot even imagine that now.  I don't ever go a day without a shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up in Deep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ellum&lt;/span&gt; drinking and eventually left Dallas.  Crabs got put in jail for fighting while he was drunk.  When he got out, we went to Austin for some reason.  On the way back from Austin we did a dye and dash (we went into a Sally's and ran out with a bunch of hair color.  Man, we were idiots.)  Then about Waco we did a dine and dash.  Right outside of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Hillsboro&lt;/span&gt; we got stopped by a state trooper.  He actually took us in for having an open container.  It was a bottle of vodka with literally 1 gulp in it, but it was enough.  They arrested the 4 of us and impounded the car.  The next day 3 of us got out, but the girl who owned to car stayed in for warrants, I think.  We were stuck in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Hillsboro&lt;/span&gt;, though.  We all had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;mohawks&lt;/span&gt; and were wearing leather jackets, combats boots, etc.  The folks in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hillsboro&lt;/span&gt; did not like us at all.  There was one place that could take wire transfers in the town.  We were trying to get someone to wire us money to get the car out of impound.  The police got us kicked out of the only place where we could have money wired to us.  They kept telling us to get out of town, though.  I am not sure what they wanted us to do.  I remember being really scared that once it got dark they were going to make us disappear.  We finally convinced someone to drive down and get us; we left the other girl and her car.  We just wanted to get out before we woke up buried alive or something.  We got back to Dallas.  We went to party at some really big ritzy house, stole a bunch of stuff and took off for Minneapolis.  We had convinced these two girls to drive us.  We also convinced them to do all of our dirty work b/c they looked normal and we didn't.  They used to credit cards we had stolen to gas up and buy all kinds of stuff.  We had them pawn a ring for us too.  That happened later in Columbia, Missouri.  We all took off in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Sunbird&lt;/span&gt; (tiny with a hatch back).  I am pretty sure there were like7 of us in it.  I was laying on top of the three people sitting in the back seat.  To make the trip go by fast I took 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;xanax&lt;/span&gt; (which I had stolen) drank a bottle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;nyquil&lt;/span&gt; and drank a couple beers.  I am lucky I woke back up.  We ended up stopping in Columbia for a few days; I am not sure why.  We met some people some how and stayed at their house on the floor.  Crabs and I had strep throat really bad.  We were so so sick, running fever and all.  They ended up leaving us in Columbia b/c we all knew we were probably going to be squatting in Minneapolis and were afraid Crabs and I would end up dead b/c we were so sick.  Eventually Crabs and I took off hitch hiking.  We ended up stuck on the side a a highway.  No one would pick us up.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;midwest&lt;/span&gt; is a really bad place to hitch hike.  They don't like to pick people up.  We even had hats on.  I remember we kept going back to this truck stop and couldn't get any help.  My toes were frozen to my wool socks in my boots.  It was so miserable.  This is where my absolute hatred for cold was really solidified.  Finally someone picked us up and drove us into Kansas City, Kansas. We went to a shelter in Kansas who helped us get to Travelers aid.  All they did was put us on a bus that took us into Kansas City, Missouri.   At the bus station we called a shelter.  They picked us up and took us to the Hospital where we got treatment for our horrible strep.  Then they took us to the shelters.  We had to be in separate shelters which we didn't like at all.  We left on foot after like 1 day.  We asked around and found the place where all the punks hung out.  We met some folks and found a place to stay.  I think we were in Kansas city for a couple months.  It was here I realized I was pregnant.  I got tired of Crabs.  He was a jerk for the most part.  I called a friend from Dallas and he drove up and rescued me.  He actually lived in Norman, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so I stayed with him for a bit.  Finally, I ended up back in downtown Dallas.  I hooked up with one of my old friends &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;?? (I decided to remove his name, due to possible incrimination of him- that is not my place to expose)&lt;/span&gt; and moved in with him and his room mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are coming up to the part where you get to hear how I met Jesus, but alas, I must go pick up Chloe so this part of the story will wait for another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-794040693831836321?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/794040693831836321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-beginning-part-4b.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/794040693831836321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/794040693831836321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-beginning-part-4b.html' title='In the beginning part 4b'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-1254825560524416735</id><published>2010-03-05T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T07:51:01.895-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wholeness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hording'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>Really silly short post</title><content type='html'>It has been so long since I posted. I really hope that as we get settled here, in our new home, I can get into a rhythm of posting several times a week.  I still have many parts of my story to tell and lots of great lessons to share. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as we downsized, moving from 2022 sq ft to 1107 sq ft, we meticulously went through boxes.  Some of these boxes have been packed for years.  Some of them have been moved to at least 2 different houses still in boxes never gone through.  We decided to crack these boxes and see what they contained and if it was even important to keep a lot of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of it was ridiculous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most asinine things was several boxes/bags containing hangers.  Funny thing is I remember when I became obsessed with hangers.  Yes, I did just say obsessed with hangers.  It is so funny the things we become obsessed with hording.  Anyone who has any thing that they hoard can look closely and find the root if they want to.  I have two things that I have, in the past, had a tendency to hoard.  One of them, I truthfully still struggle a little with hoarding.  Hangers and plastic ware are the things that I used to buy compulsively.  For some reason growing up we never had enough of either.  Even when Ally was younger, before I was married, I lived with mom and we didn't seem to have enough of either. We were extremely broke so we didn't really buy those two things.  Now, I have to interject here that we spent a lot on fast food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really spend much of anything on fast food now (maybe once every 3 months we might go out to eat- there are really two reasons for that 1) my system is so sensitive that there are very few restaurants my body will tolerate; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chewy's&lt;/span&gt; veggie bean burrito is always a winner.  2) I am a little tight &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fisted&lt;/span&gt; with money; when I compare the cost of going out to eat next to the food budget- one meal equals 10 to 20% of two weeks worth of groceries, that rubs me the wrong way.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I was saying was that we were "broke", but we would spend money on eating fast food.  Interesting.  My theory on finances is (sorry if this steps on any toes), we can afford what is important to us (what we want to afford).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a big set of plastic ware for a wedding gift and loved it. I was so thrilled that I bought more and bought more and bought more.  I don't really buy it any more, but I have trouble letting go of what I have, which is way, way too much.  I have so many plastic dishes that they fill and whole cabinet and I cannot find what I want b/c the cabinet is so full.  Maybe I need to get rid of some, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, back to the hangers.  I had boxes of hangers.  These were not hanging in a closet where they could even be used.  They were in a box in the garage.  Just in case I might need them, I guess.  Do you think I was, at this point, even aware they were there or could have found them if I had needed them?  NO!!  Ridiculous!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty funny!!  They say Lucille Ball hoarded pencils. They kept disappearing; they found a whole closet full of pencils in her office.  She owned them all, but she still felt the need to hoard them away, just in case.  She had been so poor growing up that she couldn't have pencils.  She had more money than she needed, but was afraid she wouldn't have a pencil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when we are wounded and carry it around, it effects us.  Many times we are not even aware of the baggage we are carrying around with us.  We may do the strangest things and have no idea why.  I would like to challenge my readers.  What are you carrying around that you are not even aware of.  What behaviors are you exhibiting that you need to let God reveal the roots of to you.  What He reveals, He heals.  Let Him have it.  What do you hoard or hang onto so tightly that it turns your fingers white?  Why?  Let Him show you; let Him heal you.  Liberty is so amazing.  Freedom is so much better than the pain.  It is worth the price.  It is worth the discomfort.  It's like having a baby. It does not feel good, but when you have the child in your hands, your realize it is so worth it.  Give it to Him.  We are only as strong as the weakest point of our armor.  Jesus walks with us and protects us, but what we will not give to Him, He cannot heal and therefore has to let the weakness remain.  The enemy points His arrows precisely at those places in our armor.  He knows us well and tailors the attacks specifically to hit those places where we are weak.  We don't have to heal ourselves.  We just have to be willing to let Jesus have them.  Once we give it over to Him, He transforms and heals.  Remember His yoke is easy and His burden is light.  If we are trying to carry it or fix it, it is really hard.  He can fix is with one touch of His garment.   It isn't hard when we let Him do the work.  All He asks from us is to give it to Him.  As one who has seen Him take some pretty devastated parts of me and totally transform them, I say it is worth it. He is so able to do exceedingly, abundantly more than we could ask or think.  There were wounds in my heart that I was sure He could never fix.  There are parts of me that I have despaired over for all of my life and especially the last 17 years since meeting Him, that He has healed in the last 3 months.  It is the most amazing feeling to be free from something that has been with you for as long as you can remember.  I cannot even begin to describe.  Sometimes things are with you for so long that they are woven into the fiber of your being and seem to be a part of you.  Only the Lord can remove those things that grow in like that.  If you have ever seen a tree that has barbed wire growing through it b/c it was there and it became a part of the tree, it is interesting to look at.  You cannot remove it without destroying the tree.  Some of us are like that, those things have grown into us and cannot be removed without destroying us, with one exception.  Jesus can remove them without destroying and for that I am so grateful.  To be free from something you despaired ever being free from is more beautiful than words can describe.  Even saying thank you seems like such a small offering compared to the grace of healing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-1254825560524416735?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/1254825560524416735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/really-silly-short-post.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1254825560524416735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/1254825560524416735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/03/really-silly-short-post.html' title='Really silly short post'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-9183547118091543936</id><published>2010-02-21T18:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T20:19:43.608-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brokenness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>In the beginning part 4</title><content type='html'>Okay.  I am posting less and less often.  I am moving this week and have been packing on top of everything else I have to do, so I hope that getting moved will help me get back to posting more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend asked me the other day about the term "gutter punk" stating she was afraid to find out what that meant.  Gutter punks are punk rockers that are homeless.  They don't shower, brush teeth, change clothes, etc.  Those behaviors are not really uncommon to the homeless; the difference is that "gutter punks" are really quite proud of being dirty.  He who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stinketh&lt;/span&gt; the most wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said in the last post, I got married to a guy named Squid.  We broke up and I went to a few different places to stay after that.  I ended up moving in with my friend Star (who would later become my best friend of 20 years).  She had an apartment that her mother paid for while she was finishing up high school.  We didn't stay there too long before we decided we would skip town.  Our friend Mark had moved to California to live with his mother, so we thought we would hitch out to see him.  Star and I  packed up a couple bags worth of stuff; we had maybe $50.  I can't remember for sure.  Our friend drove us out to 35 and left us with our thumbs out.  One guy picked us up and drove us back to the bus station where he said he was going to buy us tickets so we wouldn't have to hitch to California.  He left us there which really made us mad.  I guess he thought that if he left us back in Dallas we wouldn't hitch.  We got another friend to drive us out to Mesquite to the truck stop so we could find a trucker going to Cali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to confuse my readers, but I just remembered something.  As a teenager at 16 or so, I was staying down town on the streets and one night I slept on the JFK monument.  It doesn't fit into the time line here, but I thought it would be interesting to add it since I forgot it.  The JFK monument is a flat marble square about 3 feet off the ground it is about 5 ft by 5 ft.  It is really, really uncomfortable to sleep on.  It is really hard.  The reason I slept on it, though, is that it is surrounded on all four sides by these tall stone pieces like walls.  You get in trouble for just sleeping on the side walk or in a park, but they can't see you in the monument.  Funny, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found a trucker who was going to Cali; he said he would take us all the way there.  He was kind of scary.  He looked like Abraham Lincoln meets Charles Manson.  When he would stop to sleep I had to lay beside him b/c he wouldn't keep his hands off of Star.  He would literally try to crawl over me to get at her.  It was great fun, but we tried to just endure so we could get to Cali.  We did finally make it out there.  It took a few days, but we were so glad to make it.  We called Mark and found out that the trucker had left us like right down the street from his apartment.  We stayed with him for a couple days, then the three of us got on a bus and headed for Hollywood Blvd.  I forgot to mention that he lived in Los Angeles.  He helped us find some folks to hang with and then headed back home.  The time on the Blvd is kind of blurry.  We drank a lot.  It is a really weird atmosphere and culture.  It was very different from Texas.  We ended up hanging with some people who were squatting on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Melrose&lt;/span&gt; avenue.  Like I said, very blurry.  I did a lot of LSD there.  We could not trust anyone.  Everyone tried to scam everyone else.  We all slept in our Doc Martins and used our leather jackets as pillows so no one could steal them from us.  Eventually I worked my way into hanging out with some people with a lot of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Meth&lt;/span&gt;.  I was doing lots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Meth&lt;/span&gt; and LSD.  I actually walked away and left Star stranded b/c I wanted to do more speed and the people with the speed did not want her to come.  I abandoned my best friend for speed. After being awake on speed for like 120 hours straight and I started to lose it.  It had been a few days since leaving Star stranded and I didn't really have anyone I could trust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should interject here that I am naturally a very paranoid person.  Okay, maybe I should not say naturally, but I tend toward paranoia.  Even to this very day I tend toward paranoia.  The difference now is that I am able to talk myself down out of paranoia now.  I can look logically at the situation and tell myself that what I am thinking is tainted by paranoia and center myself. I do firmly believe in a lot of conspiracy.  My husband loves to say that it is just b/c I am crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take that tendency toward paranoia and add the other factors in (1. not knowing the Lord yet and not being healed at all, 2. a lot of drugs going into my body and mixing of drugs, and 3. no sleep for over 100 hours) and you have a really big mess.  The mess was big enough that I cannot tell you today what really happened.  I have had a lot of hallucinations in my days, but usually once I came down I could see what really was going on during my drug induced hallucinations.  The events that went on this day have no base in reality for me to say what happened. &lt;br /&gt;First, as I sat in an apartment, I kept seeing this shadow on the wall.  It looked like a man holding a butcher knife.  I would get up and walk over to where it was and look around and look in the bathroom and no one would be there.  Then I would go sit back down.  No one could figure out what was wrong with me.  I was too paranoid to tell them what I was seeing.  I started to think the man must be crawling up into the ceiling when I would go look for him.   One of the guys was moving back to Dallas so we took a several boxes of his stuff to the post office so he could mail them back.  For some reason, they kept all leaving me in the line at the post office with the box.  I think they were outside smoking cigarettes, but it really kept freaking me out.  I really and truly thought that they were plotting to blow up the post office and let me be blamed for it.  I thought for sure that the box must have explosives in it.  I kept walking off and leaving the box in the line by itself b/c i didn't want to be alone with it.  Then I thought I saw one of them drop a box in the mails slot and knew that it had to be a bomb.  I don't know what was really going on, but I was convinced that the bomb was going to go off and I would be blamed for it.  We finally got done at the post office and went back to the guys apartment where the girl I had been hanging out with was.  She had stayed behind b/c she was starting to crash and wanted to sleep.  As we approached the door to the apartment I had a flash in my head and I just knew that my friend was going to be dead inside.  Someone had murdered her and I was going to take the fall, or so I thought.  I could see how the blood would look all over the walls. I was thinking that the man with the butcher knife was going to kill her and then crawl into the ceiling and somehow I would get blamed.   We opened the door and she was fine. There was no blood and no dead person.  At this point I was really starting to lose my grip on reality.  Me and the girl left the guys and went back down to the blvd.  We had some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;meth&lt;/span&gt; left and I had a big knife that I kept in my boot.  Somehow I got the idea that one of the people around was going to narc on me so I started plotting how to get rid of the stuff.  I ended up dumping my knife in a trash can.  Then I dropped the baggy with the last of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;meth&lt;/span&gt; right behind a cop.  I thought that if I dropped it behind him I would be safer.  We wandered around more; we ran into a friend of mine who, I would have sworn dropped something into my boot.  I just knew that he was trying to frame me for stealing something.  I must have taken my boot off a dozen times looking for whatever I thought he dropped into my boot.  I never found anything.  At this point I was really losing ground.  Just when I thought I might really freak out, we ran into my friend Mark (the one I knew from Dallas).  I begged him and his girl to let me hang with them.  I needed to be with someone I had known before and could trust.  I also asked him to help me find Star.  She was the only one I knew I could trust and could count on.  I had left her stranded, though, so I wasn't sure if she would have me back again.  I proceeded to tell Mark about all the weird stuff that had taken place that day.  I just wanted to come down and go to sleep so I could find reality again.  We were driving around with one of the other punks, I think in a stolen car.  I kept seeing shadow people come out of the pavement and mail boxes.  It was not a fun night. We hung out and that night they helped me find my way back to the squat on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Melrose&lt;/span&gt;.  I met up with Star; she was still pretty mad, but she let me come into squat to stay and threatened to kick my ass if I didn't got to sleep so I would stop being crazy.  She convinced one of the guys who was driving around in a stolen car to drive me back to Dallas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we left for Dallas, there was a really crazy night that everyone on Sunset strip ended up tripping on LSD. I will pick up there next time. It is late and I am sleepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-9183547118091543936?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/9183547118091543936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-beginning-part-4.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9183547118091543936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/9183547118091543936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-beginning-part-4.html' title='In the beginning part 4'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-3249967241855070506</id><published>2010-02-10T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T11:34:09.657-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='serving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kingcom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>Finally another post</title><content type='html'>Man, has it been hard to find the time to blog.  I have gone from posting every single day to posting once a week or every ten days.  And, believe me, it is not that I don't have anything to say.  I am just drowning in things to do.   It really drives me crazy and has been a matter of prayer for me.  I really want to figure out a way to schedule a daily time to write.  There are just so many things that need to be taken care of and I have to make certain things a high priority.  That means that the things I would like to do, like write and sew sometimes never happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was thinking about The Kingdom of God.  Actually, I have been thinking about it for weeks, but I decided to write about it today.  I think the Body of Christ today is really missing a lot about the Kingdom.  I think the reason that we seem to be so impotent and powerless is that we are so far off the mark and distracted that we cannot tap into the power of the Kingdom.  Jesus spoke about the Kingdom over and over while he was here on the earth.  Sometimes we miss it, though, in our reading b/c we have the preconceived ideas about what the kingdom is.  We think of the Kingdom as coming when Jesus comes back or as the preaching of the Gospel so we can go to heaven.  When we take the Gospel and make it about this event when we die we miss the point and have the wrong focus.  We are being taught a lot about this at the church we attend.  The Gospel, however, is not about membership in a church, which church we attend or about going to heaven when we die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gospel is about now.  It is about living the Kingdom now in all that we say and do.  It is how we are created to live.  I could probably write for days on the Kingdom and still not plumb the depths of, but the Kingdom as a whole is not what has been rolling around in my mind today.  What I have been thinking about is the scripture in Romans 12:2 which says, "And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good, acceptable and perfect will of God is."  I really love the translations by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;JB&lt;/span&gt; Phillips,  “Do not let the world squeeze you into its mould, but instead let yourself be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really strikes me this morning is that we unknowingly allow the world to squeeze us into its mold.  I have always thought of this as me not doing "as the world does".  I have seen it as sin. If I don't have sex outside of marriage, or beat people up, or treat people poorly, etc. then I am okay and am not letting myself be conformed to the world.  The old don't do "sinful" things way of thinking.  I have begun to see very clearly that this statement goes so much deeper.  When I let my standards of success be dictated by "worldly" standards and not the Word of God, when I let the world tell me what I should spend my money on or how I should spend my time, then I am not letting my mind be renewed.  When I allow my family to struggle financially and let my husband carry the stress of bills we cannot afford so that I can have "the house, car, clothes," or whatever makes me "look successful" to everyone else around me, that is letting myself be squeezed into a mold.  When I consume all of my resources on me and things I don't necessarily need, knowing that my money would be better spent supporting a ministry that is bringing food and water to orphans who otherwise have nothing, I am not letting my mind be renewed.  When I hold a grudge and refuse to forgive and be reconciled to anyone, regardless of who was right or wrong, I am not taking up my cross and seeking first the Kingdom.  When I gossip and judge people for how they dress or act, instead of reaching out with love in my heart, I am letting the standards of the world squeeze me into a mold.  As a Christian I am held to a higher standard and it is a tough standard.  We are called as Christians to suffer.  That is what the call of the cross is.  It is not about wonderful feelings and everything being nice and easy.  It is about dying daily; it is about losing my life, so I can find it in Christ; it is about knowing it is no longer me who lives, but Christ who lives in me.  That is not easy; that is about suffering.  Being a Daughter of the kingdom means giving up my rights, and my space and my stuff.  It means that if I have one sandwich to my name and I see a stranger who has nothing that I am willing to split my one and only sandwich so that we can both have some, instead of me having enough and someone else having nothing.  It means not being right all the time or even having the "right" to whatever I think I deserve.  It means being willing to apologize to someone even if I am not wrong simply so that I can be a bringer of peace.  It is being willing to do whatever is necessary to make a relationship right.  Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the Sons of God."  I want to be called a son of God, but am I willing to do what it takes to be given that title. The Gospel is not easy and we have been fed such a watered down version that it has lost its power.  Jesus, when He called each of us to be His child, really called us to be a servant to every person we encounter.  He called us to suffer the loss of our identity, our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;allegiance&lt;/span&gt; to this world and our very life.  He calls us to lose the life we came to Him with, so we can find the life He has for us.  We have to give up our right to control our lives and have things how we want them.  We must surrender everything to Him and walk in love.  When asked what the greatest commandment was, Jesus stated, "love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all our soul, with all you mind, and with all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself."  This is a hard saying if you really think about what it asks you.  If you really try to see the implications of living that out and don't just read it as a "nice little scripture", then it is a hard saying. It is a saying that we are so so so far from living out.  A couple chapter before, in Mark 8, Jesus talks about denying ourselves, taking up the cross and following Him.  I wonder how much we really deny ourselves.  I wonder what would happen if we started really denying ourselves and putting others needs ahead of our wants; what would the world begin to look like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gospel is not easy; the Kingdom does not fit into our way of life here, but the reward of allowing God to reshape our lives into the Kingdom is so far beyond anything we could imagine that I long for and cry out to God that He would change me and make me a Daughter of the Kingdom.  I want to be changed so maybe I can spread the movement of the Kingdom.  It seems huge and impossible, but "with God all things are possible."  Maybe if He can help me see and change and live my life based on the Kingdom then I can help other people begin to change.  It could be like a virus that begins to spread, a movement.  Then maybe, some of the terrible things that we see in our world could cease to be.  Maybe love could really begin to conquer hate, and good could begin to conquer evil.  Maybe if we were all servants to each other, then in serving each would have his or her needs met, because as we serve, others would serve us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy, idealistic, hard, yeah, but totally possible b/c that is how Jesus lived and how He called us to live.  Really it leads to total freedom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-3249967241855070506?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/3249967241855070506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/finally-another-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3249967241855070506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/3249967241855070506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/finally-another-post.html' title='Finally another post'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-4437904491444528238</id><published>2010-02-05T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T09:18:38.413-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><title type='text'>In the Beginning part 3</title><content type='html'>I am trying to keep all the details in the right order, but there are some points where things start to be blurry and a little confused.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After I left Parkland, I was in a hospital in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Denton&lt;/span&gt;.  I cannot really remember what it was called. I don't think I was there very long, though.  I was one of the first young patients, my psychiatrist was starting a new adolescent program.  The first couple weeks I was actually on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;geriatric&lt;/span&gt; ward of the hospital.  I do remember that the wing that the adolescent unit was on was undergoing some construction.  I had to go to another wing to shower and it was creepy to me. I had just read IT by Steven King and I was really scared to be over in the empty hospital wing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I got out of the hospital I started hanging out with some of the people that had gone to Straight and dropped out as well.  I remember there was some kind of law suit going on that we were participating in.  They took pictures of my arms; I don't think anything ever came of that law suit.  As I said, I was hanging out with ex-straight kids and things went &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;okay&lt;/span&gt; for a bit, but eventually fell apart as they always did.  We started drinking and doing drugs again.  We were living in Irving still and I ran away.  At that point my mom couldn't make me come back b/c I was 17.  I stole a bunch of stuff from the house and sold it.  I had dropped out of school after finishing 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade at about 16 (I think?).  We were spending a lot of time in Deep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ellum&lt;/span&gt; hanging with a bunch of punks.  I ended up hanging out with a guy named Phillip who led me down a very very dark path.  He was into a lot of really strange things.  I let him pierce my nipple with a safety pin (what was I thinking?)  I cleaned it for weeks by pouring liquor on it (brilliant, huh?)  Needless to say it got infected and did not go well for me.  One night riding back to the house we were going to stay at with strangers who were drunk, we got into a very serious car wreck.  I have a scar on my temple still from it.  We were crammed into a tiny hatch back car 9 of us.  One girl cut an artery being propelled from the hatch window and coming back in (blood was spraying out of her arm), another girl never walked again, the driver and passenger got out and ran away leaving us there.  I cut my head and everyone else was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;okay&lt;/span&gt;.  Shortly after Phillip and I hitch hiked to New Orleans.  I learned a lot of extremely disturbing behavior from Phillip.  We made it to the French quarter and set out to meeting people.  I drank a lot and did a lot of drugs there.  It is somewhat foggy.  I was there a few months and ended up engaged to a guy named Smurf.  Then I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Covenant&lt;/span&gt; House (a run away shelter).  They helped me get back to Dallas.  I wasn't back long before I decided I wanted to go back.  I saved money and took a bus back.  I stayed for a while and have no idea how I got back to Dallas the second time.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Around this time, my mom ended up finding a therapist who specialized in Multiple Personality Disorder.  This is where things started to come together for us.  They admitted me, my mother and my brother into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bedford&lt;/span&gt; Meadows hospital on three separate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;MPD&lt;/span&gt; units.  It is at this hospital that someone figured out that the key to the whole family was my mother.  If they could get her okay, eventually we would be okay too.  My brother was transferred to a hospital in Lubbock and I was discharged and went to Tennessee to stay with my childhood best friend.  My mother still worked for AT&amp;amp;T so she had good insurance and was on long term disability so she sent money to me to live on while I stayed there.  She met Jesus at that hospital and did a lot of work on her issues.  I, on the other hand, had still quite a ways to go before things would change.  Tennessee was pretty strange for me.  I was a death rocker (what people call Goth now) and Tennessee is very, very country.  I drank with all the hicks, but eventually left.  Mom paid for a bus ticket back to Dallas and helped me find a room to rent.  She was still in the hospital.  I went to AA meetings and tried to stay sober and function.  After a few months she finally got out of the hospital and we moved to Richardson.  My brother got out of Lubbock too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I forgot something important in Irving (after Straight, but before &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Bedford&lt;/span&gt; Meadows).  Somehow my brother got acquainted with racist skinheads.  We hung out with them for a little while.  They ended up finding out that I had had physical relations with an African American person (or dozens actually), and that did not go well for me.  They were going to beat me to death, not sure how I got out of that one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In Richardson, I attended a lot of AA meetings and stayed clean for a while (maybe 6 months).  Eventually I met a guy named Matthew through AA.  We started having a relationship.  He was a recovering heroin addict who introduced me to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;speed ball&lt;/span&gt; (cocaine and heroin).  This was my first experience with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;intravenous&lt;/span&gt; drug use, but I was always down for a new experience.  I slowly got into the circle if shooters that he was acquainted with.  I shot up a lot of drugs with  a lot of people all using the same needles (see, I am truly blessed b/c I should have HIV, TB and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;hepatitis&lt;/span&gt;).  I got tested once a year for about 7 years after I got saved before I felt safe that I was clean.  Fortunately for me, I met up with some pretty hard core punks at this point also and they were very anti-needle so I migrated toward them and spent less time with the junkies.  It was here I met my first husband, Squid.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Squid and I were married about 2 weeks after we met b/c we thought it would me fun.  The Justice of the peace we went to was less than thrilled with us.  We had a bunch of punks with us and we were all obnoxious.  We all lived in a squat (an empty building).  It was some abandoned apartments off of Spring Valley (they aren't there any more,:it is a self storage place now).  We broke up within about a month.  I actually never divorced him;  I was working on the paperwork when I had been walking with Jesus about a year, but he was stabbed to death by his girlfriend in California; mutual friends told me about it.  It is through this group of friends that I became a gutter punk.  More on gutter punk and what follows later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-4437904491444528238?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/4437904491444528238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-beginning-part-3.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4437904491444528238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4437904491444528238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-beginning-part-3.html' title='In the Beginning part 3'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-4628416276892448067</id><published>2010-02-03T15:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T20:16:21.575-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gratitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grace'/><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>I was thinking today as I ran about being an "optimist".  I wake up every morning excited to be alive and to have been given another day to walk with God, be a mom and walk on this earth.  I don't really struggle with depression or bad moods.  As I thought about this and why it is, it hit me.  I am so grateful for all that I have.  The first thoughts that are in my mind as I begin to run are thoughts of thanksgiving.  I just begin to thank God for everything I have, big and small.  It's something that I have done since I started walking with God.  At first, I made myself go through thanking God, b/c I needed to be reminded and it helped me get into a joyful mood in the morning.  I did used to struggle with depression and having a bad attitude when I first met Him.  Over years it has just become a habit to wake up and start thanking Him.  Sometimes I end up thanking him for 30 or 45 minutes of my prayer time.  Then I reel myself back in and start praying about the things I need to pray about.  I think that is what helps me keep a really optimistic outlook on life. It is hard to have a bad attitude or be too down when you are thinking about all that you are grateful for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really felt like I wanted to write about the things I am really thankful for.  There are so many things that we take for granted.  I don't know, maybe this will help someone else, or maybe I just want to be reminded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for... my hands and feet, and arms and legs, and fingers and toes (imagine life without them, many are missing some).  My toe nails and fingernails (how bad would it hurt to just have nail beds).  My eyelashes.  That I can see, taste, touch, smell, and hear.  That I have a house, a bed, food (I used to dig my food out of dumpsters), running water, electricity, and gas.  warm baths, and soft towels.  my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt;, sewing machines, computers, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dvd&lt;/span&gt; player.  That I can chew and swallow my food. My children live in a country where they can go to school and worship God and cannot starve.  I am thankful that I was able to conceive children against all odds (when many people pay and pay and pay to try and conceive.) and give birth to them without a c-section (that was really important to me).  That I was able to breast feed all of my children (I have had friends that really struggled with that or could not).  I am grateful that God let me get Rheumatoid Arthritis b/c it changed the way my family and I eat.  I am grateful to be off drugs.  I am grateful that God let me struggle with alcoholism and then helped me get free from it (I learned to be gracious to those who struggle).  I have more clothes than I can wear (I used to have 1 pair of pants, 1 pair of undies, 1 bra, 2 shirts, a skirt, leather jacket, 1 pair of socks, and a pair of boots). I am thankful I don't have AIDS, hepatitis, or TB, nor do my children.  I am thankful that I met God at 20, before I had a chance to really damage Alexandra.  I am thankful that my brother went to jail and got off of drugs.  Grateful for friends and that I can realize now how many friends I have and can be a friend.  I am grateful that my life had such a hard beginning so that I would grow to have the strength and passion that I have. I am grateful that I am an artist and that God allowed Satan to steal that from me for so many years and because I have had to fight so hard for it I am passionate about developing creativity in other people.  I am grateful that I have picked up so many tools along my journey to help people.  I am grateful that God gave me Alexandra and used her to save my life, keep my off drugs when there was no other reason I could see. Thankful that He protected her from my stupid, selfish and self destructive behavior.  I am thankful that I walked into The Early Church on July 17, 1992 and met Jesus there. I am grateful that I learned so much and grew so much there.  I am grateful that I met Larry there and that they separated us so that we went through all that we went through and in the end had a much stronger, passionate and committed love between us. and i am grateful that the church closed it doors.  I am grateful that God gave us Stephen and used him to keep us connected and then spoke through him to bring us back together.  I am grateful that Stephen was God lesson on grace to me.  I am thankful that God has allowed me to home school Stephen, that he made me willing, gave me the resources and commitment and caused Larry to agree and allow it. I am thankful that I have had a hands on part in teaching him and seeing him begin to succeed and realize that he is not stupid.  I am thankful that God made it easy to give up my career for his benefit.   I am thankful that my husband loves me no matter what (fat, skinny, drunk, sober, red, pink, purple or black hair, tattoos, piercings, baggage, issues, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt;, all of me).  Thankful for Chloe and her sweet disposition as well as the stubbornness of the other two.  cars, dogs, refrigerator, bread maker,  camera, computer, treadmill, makeup.  I am thankful that I get to stay at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Sigler&lt;/span&gt; and that I have gotten to start an art program and for the vision to do even more.  I am thankful for my Bible and that God has allowed me to read and absorb so much of it and that I can even read.  I am thankful that no one can come take my son and make him a child soldier nor can anyone decide we need to be their slaves.  I am thankful that I have found a church that is helping me grow to be more like Jesus.  I am thankful that God has allowed my mother and I to develop a closer relationship and that He is healing the damage more and more each day.  I am so so so grateful that my children were born into a Christian home and have not had to suffer abuse and neglect. I am thankful for the stability and wholeness God brought to me very quickly so that my children could grow up in a health environment. I am thankful that my husbands family is so wonderful and that I was able to get to know my father in law.  I am grateful for peanut butter, vegetables, water, tea.  I am grateful that "if God be for me, who can be against me and nothing shall separate me from the love God in Christ Jesus, and that He who began a good work will be faithful to complete it."  I am thankful that God has helped me lose my love for things and has given me the heart to want to be a servant (even though I still struggle with doing that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am thankful that "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever  believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could probably go on, but that is enough. My point has been made.  How can I be down when God has been so good to me and when I have more than I can even enumerate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3975496707555139425-4628416276892448067?l=searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/feeds/4628416276892448067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4628416276892448067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3975496707555139425/posts/default/4628416276892448067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/02/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Dawn Hall</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04690294899708871319</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8BxkuWpDaMQ/TptoHLXcHFI/AAAAAAAAAC4/wjeMmKQKbng/s220/new%2Bpic%2Bdawn.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3975496707555139425.post-1384585057908099365</id><published>2010-01-22T17:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T21:08:53.888-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dawnthebutcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking with Jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='redemption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wholeness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christianity'/><title type='text'>In the beginning part 2</title><content type='html'>Just one more thing about the early years.  Just remember when you see that kid that doesn't fit in and seems different, that is unkempt with sad eyes, that was me.  Love the kid and pray for that kid, b/c it just might be that you don't know what kind of terrible suffering the child is going through.  You could be the one person who can impact and change the life of that child, if by no other way, but by praying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did forget one things that happened in the early years.  My mother began going to a drug abuse recovery program when I was pretty young.  I really grew up around that program.  It was called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;PDAP&lt;/span&gt; and was mainly teenagers.  I looked up to those kids immensely.  I would hear them talk about doing drugs while they smoked cigarettes.  I thought they were all so cool and I wanted to be just like them.  This was not really the intention my mother had for allowing me to spend time with them.  I heard all the drug stories and learned so much about drugs.  It's not that they necessarily told me about it or tried to influence me, but they talked about them in front of me and I soaked it in like a sponge.  I was just a little kids to them and didn't really fit it with them, but I figured out that if I did drugs then I could be in recovery and I would be cool and fit in; then I wouldn't just be some little kid.  I think I decided after having hung around them for most of my middle child hood in 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade that I wanted to find a way to start doing drugs.  I am sure that is not what my mother would have thought was going on.  I forgot that I was also in gymnastics, Mary Lou &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Retton&lt;/span&gt; was my hero and I wanted to be in the Olympics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From this point on there are some pretty gory details so buckle up.  You may find out more about me than you want to.  I have done some things I should be pretty ashamed of only I have been forgiven and redeemed so the shame is gone and I can tell the stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade, Bell and AT&amp;amp;T were split into two different companies.  My mom went with At&amp;amp;T which moved her work place from downtown Fort Worth to Irving.  We moved north to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bedford&lt;/span&gt;.  I really, really did not fit it there.  There was so much money in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Bedford&lt;/span&gt;.  I guess kind of like Plano, only I was certified "white trash".  I started off the year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; and was on the gymnastics team, but it did not take me long to gravitate toward the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;stoners&lt;/span&gt;" and "headbangers".  I had begun to get into metal music in 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.  I was also into new wave and a little punk.  I saw my first real mo hawk at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bedford&lt;/span&gt; Junior high.  It was on the head of a girl named Katie and I thought she was the coolest thing I had ever seen.  The skaters/new wavers  did not really welcome me so I ended up with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;stoners&lt;/span&gt;.  There is no way that I would have fit in with the "preppies" as we called them.  I did not have the clothes, shoes or the look.  I slowly gravitated more and more to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;stoner&lt;/span&gt; crowd.  For me 13 birthday my mom took me to see Kiss and WASP in concert.  My wall quickly became covered with all kinds of posters of metal bands.  The metal gave way to death metal (straight up satanic music).  I started smoking cigarettes, pot and huffing spray paint.  I got in with the older crowd and was introduced to heavier drugs pretty quickly.  I was 13 the first time I tried Cocaine.  At 13 I had sex by choice for the first time.  The summer after 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade, I was sneaking the car out every night.  One night I drank ??? who knows how much.  I cannot really remember much after driving  to Lake Grapevine.  I know that one of the boys wrecked the car and I drank to black out.  My mother found me unconscious on the floor of the bathroom and had to call an ambulance.  I had alcohol poisoning.  In the ER they were asking me what drugs I had done and if I could be pregnant.  This is where my mother found out how bad things had gotten.  I went to my first rehab shortly after that.  I was in for about a month.  I got out and continued to progress.  I was skipping school a lot and taking any drugs that I came across with no thought to what might happen.  Around this time the Crystal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;meth&lt;/span&gt; started.  Things are a little fuzzy about some of these years.  I do remember thinking I was cool and could fit in with all those kids in the drug abuse program now b/c I had been to rehab. I wasn't just the the kid anymore.  I also remember thinking I was really fat (I weighed 115 pounds, but when I looked in the mirror I saw a fat person).  I kept on doing drugs and being destructive;  I ran away for a little while then ended up back in Psychiatric Institute for round 2.  I had started cutting on myself and taking hand fulls of lithium pills.   I played the game really well and was released to a halfway house.  One night on the way to an AA meeting while staying in the halfway house, I stole a package of straight razors.  When I got back to the place, I cut my wrist.  They were not deep cuts, but I succeeded in being admitted back into the hospital.  This time it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;HCA&lt;/span&gt; Plano.  I became more and more depressed and very violent.  I was diagnosed with personality disorder.  One night I took an earring and reopened the scars the had developed over the cuts.  This hospital would give me Valium and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Klonopin&lt;/span&gt; when I got upset and hit people so I got upset quite frequently.  They would pin me down, drag me to the quiet room, put me in restraints and shoot me up with drugs.  It was a fun game to me.   My mother caught onto the game and had me transferred to Green Oaks.  I spent about 6 months in Green Oaks.  I did therapy and stuff.  I don't have many memories that stick out to me from Green Oaks.  I do remember one things.  One girl mocked my scars and said her mom had sliced her arms all the way up to her elbow.  Well, being the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;competitive&lt;/span&gt; person I am, I decided that when I got out I would out do her mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother ended up in Green Oaks; here is where she began to remember being abused by her father.  This is where we started the journey toward dealing with all the secrets.  She, at that point, was operating under the thinking that it had stopped when she was young. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point during this hospitalization, I began to realize that I had also been victim of this abuse.  I believe I was about 14 to 15 in Green Oaks.  This is the point that we cut ties with my mother's family.  We have not seen them since.  When my mother realized what had been happening to us, she divorced the whole family.  I graduated Green Oaks and went back to the halfway house.  In total, I was locked up for 2 1/2 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere, in all this (I can't place where it goes chronologically, but it seems like around 14 or15) I moved in with some people from the drug abuse program.  We were supposed to be being sober.  We were not.  We ended up drinking and partying.  We dealt X for a while and I did massive amounts of X.  There was some weird witch crafty stuff going on too.  My mom gave us money to help with groceries, but we spent it on drugs.  I shop lifted the food we ate and the baby formula for their baby.  Finally, I got caught and put into Juvenile until my mom could find a hospital for me to go into.  It seems like this was right before the 2 1/2 year lock up stretch, but I can't remember for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got free, I did pretty good for a little while.  Then I hooked up with a girl I had met in Green Oaks.  That was a pretty dark time of my life.  I had sex pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;indiscriminately&lt;/span&gt; .  I ended up feeling pretty used and worthless.  I also decided I didn't want to be white.  I hung around some pretty rough people (crack dealers).  They had money and guns and I was a "white girl" so most of them like having me on theirs arms.  I got infected with diseases that you don't really want to be infected with.  I am damn lucky that I did not end up with HIV.  That has to be God's grace.  I tell you that really ugly part of my story for one reason.  I had   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;VD's&lt;/span&gt; many times and got one to the point that I was very, very ill; I am not supposed to be able to conceive children.  I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-cancer at 17 and had to have surgery performed on my cervix.   Yet, my great and glorious, gracious and forgiving God gave me 3 beautiful children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure how long I was free, but the next place I went to was called Straight.  It was a scary, scary place.  They took a boot camp approach to recovery.  My mom was at the end of her rope, though.  We had moved to Irving by this time.  Sometime between &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Bedford&lt;/span&gt; and Irving we also lived in Fort Worth again.  Anyway, Straight was not a fun place.  They basically used boot camp tactics to break a person down and the rebuilt the person in "recovery".  We all sat in a room, in plastic chairs all day.  We would be stood up and screamed at in the face over and over.  One Fridays, they parents would come to parents meetings and stand us up and ridicule us for all we had done.  The program  required them tell us that if we didn't finish the program that they wouldn't be our parents anymore, that we wouldn't exist to them anymore.  We were led around like dogs with our higher level person holding onto our belt loops.  We weren't aloud to read anything but the Big Book (AA) or the Bible.  We had to admit if we read even billboards or food boxes.  At night we had to sleep in "host homes" which were home of the other parents who had children in Straight.  When I finally got to Level 2 where we get to stay in our host home and have a new person to lead around, I escaped the first night.  I ran off wearing boxers and a sweat shirt.  The windows had alarms on them so you couldn't open them.  I removed both pieces in a sheet and climbed out the window.  I went to friends houses, none of whom would help me.  I finally found someone to let me in.  He told me if I slept with him and his cousin he would let me stay.  (sorry for the awful stories, but if I am going to tell my story, I have to include these).  I did (sex was ugly and cheap to me anyway, I didn't think I was worth saying no to anyone-I felt like I had been used up as it was.)  They made me leave after the acts were performed.  I felt so humiliated, used and alone.  I had been being berated for months and told by my mother that she wouldn't be my mother if I quit the program.  I didn't see that I had anywhere I could go.  I walked to the grocery store and stole a package of razors, a pack of cigarettes and some white out.  I then went behind at 7 11 and smoked and huffed the white out (it was all I could get my hands on).  Then I began to slash my arms.  I remember feeling so angry, alone and hopeless.  I hated myself so deeply; I just wanted to hurt myself as much as I could.  I slashed myself over and over and over on the front and back of my arms.  I slashed my legs and put some small cuts on my face.  I wish I had pictures of what I had done to myself.  You would not believe the damage.  I pulled my sleeves down over my arms and lay down to go to sleep.  The next morning I woke up to the sun and realized I had no where to go so I called straight.  They came and picked me up.   When they called my mom to take me to the hospital they told her I had a gash on my arm.  I was covered in blood, head to toe.  My sweat shirt, boxers and shoes were stiff with blood.  There was dried blood down my legs and every where else.  She was not prepared for what she walked in on.  When I got to the hospital, they had to rip the sweat shirt off of my arms.  Then they took plastic brushes and scrubbed the wounds til they bled again.  It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;excruciating&lt;/span&gt;.  I think I had to be held down, but the fuzz from the inside of the sweat shirt was fused with the scabs that had formed.  There were huge pieces of subcut
